


Potter Watch 2: Basilisk Boogaloo

by gr1m_r3apr



Series: PotterWatch [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blaise is just vibing, Daphne doesn't get paid enough for this, Draco Is a Prick, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, He Shouldn't Be, Keziah is so done, Multi, Racial Allegories, Sibling Love, Snape Bashing, Theo will get slapped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr1m_r3apr/pseuds/gr1m_r3apr
Summary: It's been a year since Keziah was drop-kicked into the Harry Potter universe and she isn't a step closer to finding her way back home.As she starts her second year at Hogwarts with a bang, Keziah is being pulled in a thousand different directions as mysteries emerge and friendships are found and lost.Will Keziah survive another year to fulfil her 'purpose' as a spare?
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass & Theodore Nott & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy & Original Character(s), Harry Potter & Original Character(s), Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley & Original Female Character(s)
Series: PotterWatch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848082
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hate doing descriptions, don't you?
> 
> Hi, guys, welcome back to the second instalment of Potter Watch. Sorry, it took so long but writer's block is a bitch.
> 
> The amount of projection in this fic is kind of concerning.

The sun was warm as Remus Lupin walked through the woods, the cool summer breeze stinging at his fresh cuts. The robes that clung to his back had been patched up so many times he couldn’t tell what was the original fabric.

It had been a bad moon, one that he had not experienced in years and years. Perhaps it hurt, even more, thanks to the letter folded up in his pocket.

As soon as Remus had come back to himself, the first thing he’d done was check if the letter was alright. Thankfully, it was still in good condition. He brushed his fingers over the painstakingly neat letters, so familiar yet alien. He saw where the blue ink had quivered and where it had suddenly stopped before continuing.

It was like he was fifteen again, sitting in his window as an owl chewed on his jumper. Except the letter wouldn’t be titled ‘ _Dear Remus Lupin_ ’. It would just say Moony, followed by pages of rambling and jokes and half-baked pranks.

A tear slipped down onto the page, smearing the signature.

Remus had had the letter for just over a fortnight but he still couldn’t reply. He’d left behind a part of himself all those years ago and returning to it was scarier than turning into a werewolf every cycle.

“Would you be ashamed? Would you be ashamed of how I am now?” he asked aloud, eyes scraping the treeline. He didn’t expect an answer but the looming silence made him feel emptier than before.

Remus Lupin had a tattoo over his chest. It was the only one he ever got, right after he graduated, in a dingy shop on the edge of Diagon Alley. They had all been so excited, bouncing on the balls of their feet as Evans shook her head with exasperation and fondness.

He tripped suddenly, all thoughts screeching to a halt. Throwing his hands out to stop from tumbling through the bush, Remus collided with the ground. It had been a crooked root that caused it, jutting out of the ground like a gnarled hook.

Swearing under his breath, Remus struggled to his feet. He always felt weak after a full moon but lately, it was getting harder every day to get back up. He was only thirty-two but his body had already lived through a lifetime and it was starting to show. The lines on his face got deeper every month and the grey hair was getting more numerous.

Remus wondered how difficult it would be to just sit down on the forest floor and not move. Eventually, the forest would grow around him. He could just sit there until the moss overtook him and the roots twisted through his bones. But no, he was too much of a coward for even that.

Merlin, that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was too much of a coward to do anything and he always had been.

There were other letters in his robes, all wrapped in wax to keep from damaging. Most of them from his father, spare a hastily scribbled note from Rubeus Hagrid begging for old photos of Lily and James Potter.

As soon as he had read it, Remus’s first instinct was to rip up the paper and possibly flee to the other side of the world. That was always the plan. If people got too close, you packed up and left with not even your footprints behind you.

Except this was for Harry and Keziah Potter. It was present for the only living relics of his best friends. Remus had sighed and immediately apparated back to the cottage he was staying at.

No matter how much he wouldn’t admit it to himself, Remus hadn’t completely left himself behind. He was still in there, buried under a decade of poverty, self-hate and unprocessed grief.

Now that he was standing by the treeline, Remus twisted on the spot, eyes shut until he opened them in his semi-derelict flat in an estate in Manchester.

There was a suitcase propped up on the flea-bitten sofa. The label was scratched, faded and peeling. You could just about make out the name ‘Professor R.J Lupin’.

Staring at it, Remus clenched his hand over his heart. For a moment, he considered writing a reply. He was settling down in a seat, quill clutched tightly in hand, fresh paper rolled out in front of him.

It ended up being excellent kindling.

*

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

Keziah couldn’t stop grinning as the back garden filled with out of tune warbling that threatened to make her ears bleed. Harry looked bashfully ecstatic, his face strangely aglow under the orange light of twelve flickering candles. The sun was quivering at the brim of the horizon, red and gold light fittingly painting the sky.

As the song came to a close, Harry blew out all the candles — well most of them. Keziah managed to puff out two. The Weasleys broke out in cheers and Mrs Weasley pulled Harry into a tight hug that nearly knocked the birthday hat from his messy hair.

“You’re finally as old as the rest of us,” Ron said excitedly.

“Well he’ll still be an ickle tot to me,” Keziah said in a patronizing voice, cackling at Harry’s disgusted expression.

“You’re only ten months older!” he said.

Keziah shook her head, refraining from answering as the large red and gold cake split into several slices. One floated onto her plate, the scent of chocolate making her drool.

“Your mum is amazing, Ron,” Keziah said in disbelief. “Can she adopt me? Harry can get in through marriage.”

Ron burst into peals of laughter as Harry spluttered.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“Ginny has a huge crush on you,” Keziah laughed. “Did you not notice how she acts around you?”

“No.”

Keziah smiled, shaking her head at Harry’s obliviousness, as she looked over the rest of the garden. Ms Walsh was talking pleasantly to Mrs Weasley in the way mothers often did. Astoria was standing next to Ginny, their heads close together as they whispered and giggled. She outright laughed as she watched Fred and George attempt to feed cake to a gnome, its potatoey head gnashing its teeth as it struggled out of their grip. Aslan the cat wound around people’s leg, gambolling in the grass.

Her smile faded, however, as she saw Daphne stood near the edge of the garden. She looked pretty — with a bright blue sundress and a crown braid — but desperately out of place. Her eyes were glued to the grass, arms wrapped unsurely around herself.

“I’ll be back,” said Keziah, placing her own cake down so she could carry Daphne’s plate as well as handle her cane.

Daphne didn’t react but Keziah saw her eyes briefly flick upwards as the sundried grass crunched underfoot (and under-cane).

“Aren’t you having fun with Potter and Weasley?” she asked, her voice abnormally hard.

Keziah blinked in surprise at her friend’s attitude.

“I would be,” she responded slowly, holding out the plate of cake. “The only problem is that my best friend isn’t having fun.”

Daphne smiled slightly in thanks as she took the plate. She still wasn’t looking at Keziah, gazing over the garden instead. The sky had gone a deep blue, balls of lights appearing around the grass.

“Don’t worry,” said Daphne. “I’m fine. It’s just weird being here.”

“Why?”

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly.

Keziah didn’t say anything as Daphne slowly began to eat. She didn’t understand why her friend was being so strange. After all, Daphne had been the one to suggest the whole celebration to her mother, no matter how much she denied it afterwards. Apparently, Mr Weasley and Ms Walsh were old work colleagues.

A piano riff started playing out of the radio that Mr Weasley had brought into the garden. Keziah tried not to smile too hard as Daphne’s foot started tapping to the beat.

“Do you want to dance?”

“Of course not,” the blonde said with a smile, holding out her hand.

Keziah grinned, half-pulling Daphne into her as they began wiggling along to the sounds of Annie Lennox. It was odd, Keziah realised, trying to dance while also making sure you didn’t drop your cane. Fred and George were nearby, flinging their limbs out into the furthest approximation to dancing she’d ever seen.

“Nice to see you smiling, Greengrass,” Fred said, tipping an invisible hat in the girls’ direction.

Daphne nodded awkwardly, spinning Keziah so they were facing away from everybody else.

“I want to go home,” she said.

“Why though?” Keziah asked loudly.

She winced as half of the garden whipped their heads towards the two girls. Blushing, Keziah grabbed Daphne’s hand and dragged them both into the living room.

“You’re telling me what’s going on with you right now... Daphne?”

Keziah’s anger wavered as she watched her friend move towards a small wizarding figurine. It looked like some sort of knight, brandishing his glittering sword to an invisible foe.

“Daphne?”

The blonde stopped in her tracks and turned around. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Did you say something?” Daphne asked in an odd voice.

“What’s going on with you?” Keziah said. “We’re not leaving until you explain what’s the matter.”

Daphne groaned, burying her face in a pillow. Then she froze and threw it away as if she’d been burnt.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s just that we used to be friends with the Weasleys. We used to be here so much and it physically hurts because nothing’s changed. I walk around and it feels like I’m seven years old again. They’re still the same and my family’s —”

Daphne broke off, too emotional to speak. Keziah immediately wrapped her hands around the taller girl.

“I’m sorry I asked to talk about this,” she whispered.

Tossing her head in earnest, Daphne pushed herself up.

“No,” she said shakily. “I should be able to talk about this. It’s just — we used to be here with my father. But then he left and Mum _still_ won’t tell me why but after he did, magic just disappeared from my life.” She paused to wipe her eyes. Keziah pretended not to notice. “We stopped visiting wizards, we went completely Muggle. I never knew why. Mum would just randomly burst into tears, claiming that magic was evil and bad and unnecessary! I don’t think she wanted me to even go to Hogwarts at first.”

Keziah didn’t know what to say as Daphne curled up into her, feet tucked in between the minor mountain of hand-knitted cushions.

They sat like that for a short while until Ms Walsh came walking into the living room, swaying slightly. Her light eyes were unfocused and manic and Keziah could immediately see that the woman was drunk.

“Hello girls,” Ms Walsh said happily. “I just wanted to say that we’ll be staying the night. I don’t think I can take the floor like this.”

She left again, humming some sort of funny tune. Daphne sniffed, finally getting up. She winced as her joints audibly cracked and popped.

“She didn’t even notice,” Daphne said bitterly, stretching her legs.

“Think she’s a bit too busy being tipsy,” Keziah sniggered. Pins and needles shot up her limbs as she gingerly extended them. Her left leg whined as her healing wound stretched with the skin.

Daphne hummed her agreement, looking less unhappy as she stood straight, peering through the curtains.

“They’re still bloody dancing!” she exclaimed. “How can they have all that energy?”

“They’re Gryffindors,” Keziah suggested, lying down across the cushions.

“They’re mental, that’s what they are,” Daphne said sagely. “Come on. They’re probably wondering where we went.”

“Are you sure?” Keziah asked. “If you want to stay here, I’ll give them some excuse.”

Daphne’s face at that moment was full of utter gratitude.

“No thanks,” she said. “I’m all good now. Plus I think Wonder Boy deserves another happy birthday. He needs twelve years worth of them. And so do you.”

They walked out much lighter than when they’d walked in. Harry sped over, looking concerned.

“Where were you guys?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Keziah said. “Don’t focus on us. It’s your birthday.”

“Only for another hour,” added Daphne. “Then you’ll go back to being a normal human being who I’m not forced to be nice to.”

“Have you seen my face?” Harry laughed, pointing at his forehead.

“I don’t believe I have.”

The party ended abruptly as Ron spotted Astoria and Ginny sleeping near the roses, their cups of juice leaking over their socks. The adults were all chatting, passing around a bottle of mead as Fred and George hauled the girls to their feet and they all snuck off to bed. Keziah and Daphne were shuffled off to Bill’s old bedroom.

They rolled out the mattresses against the dusty floor. For an ex-prefect and head boy, Bill’s room was impressively punk rock. There were old band posters plastered on the walls and Daphne found an ancient tube of eyeliner hidden under a drawer.

“Weasley’s got serious game,” Keziah muttered under her breath as she leafed through Bill’s old magazines and notebooks which had girls’ names scribbled in.

Daphne snickered as she ruffled through the old clothes hidden in boxes in the back of Bill’s wardrobe.

“Do you think it’s wrong to be going through his things like this?” she asked.

“He’s got six siblings,” Keziah said. “He’d have hidden it much better than this if he didn’t want his things to be found.”

Daphne laughed again but then she stopped and straightened, her grip on the jumper she was holding tightening.

“Hey, Keziah?” she asked quietly. “I know it’s not my business, but are you in a fight with Blaise and Theo?”

“Of course not. Why?”

“It’s just... they’re wondering why you haven’t owled them. They think you’re mad and them,” Daphne said. “You don’t know how many dramatic rants I’ve gotten from both of them — don’t tell them I told you.”

Keziah felt like slapping her forehead. This was the year Dobby came into the picture and she was a fool for not guessing he’d want to keep her safe too in his own weird way.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Daph?” Keziah said instead. “I’ve talked to you over the phone almost every day and you couldn’t help to mention this?”

“It wasn’t my business!” Daphne said quickly. “I didn’t think you’d want me to get involved!”

Keziah rolled her eyes.

“I’m not mad at them,” she said. “I haven’t gotten owls from them either. I think something’s wrong with mine and Harry’s letters.”

Daphne’s pale eyes went as wide as galleons.

“That’s illegal,” she said. “Who’d do such a thing.”

“I have a few ideas,” Keziah sighed, shutting the magazine.

*

Ms Walsh was half-asleep as she stumbled through the fireplace.

“I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled, rubbing her temples as she walked towards her bedroom.

“You always say that!” Astoria rolled her eyes, settling down in front of the television.

Ms Walsh mumbled something incoherently before the door slammed shut.

“She’ll be out for the rest of the day,” Daphne grinned. “Come on. You can unpack your things and then I can show you around.”

Keziah and Daphne were laughing as the blonde opened the room to her door. The bedroom was unnaturally neat, things not even an inch out of place. However, the strangest thing was the creature sitting on Daphne’s bed.


	2. Chapter 2

The creature was very small with big floppy ears and a long thin nose. It looked vaguely female, with big brown eyes and a single springy brown curl on the top of her head. She wore nothing but a raggedy pillowcase that barely held on to her tiny body.

“What did you do to my room?” Daphne screamed.

“Pippa cleaned it, Miss,” the creature said politely. “Pippa comes to deliver a message and sees this room, so then Pippa thinks that this room is messy so Pippa cleans it!”

Daphne looked even more anguished, rushing under her bed and feeling under it.

“Where’s my letter?” she asked, her voice barely even.

“What letter, Miss?”

“The scrunched up parchment with green ink spots!”

“Pippa puts it in the bin, Miss,” the creature said, pointing to the bin. “It seems like rubbish.”

Daphne leapt over to it and stuck her hand in, gasping in relief as her hand emerged grasping tightly onto a small paper ball. Tucking it safely into her pocket, she grabbed her wand from her desk and pointed it threateningly at the elf.

“Where did you come from?” she snarled. “Start speaking, elf.”

Keziah’s eyes widened as she pulled Daphne back.

“Calm down, Daph,” she said quickly. “Pippa?”

The elf looked up more excitedly, doing a small curtsey.

“Miss Potter speaks to Pippa. It is a huge honour, Missus Potter, it truly is! Pippa was supposed to meet Miss Potter at Mister and Missus Dursley’s house but Pippa is shocked to see they let the Potter siblings stay at other homes!”

“Who sent you? How do you know all this?”

“Dobby asks Pippa to help him so Pippa does,” Pippa said immediately, smiling. Then she frowned tilting her head. “Was Pippa not supposed to say that?”

“Who’s Dobby?” Keziah asked. “And what does he want you to help him with. Who’s your master, Pippa?”

Pippa frowned and started rocking back and forth.

“Dobby says not to say!”

“Is Dobby your master?” Keziah said quickly before the elf broke something.

Pippa slowly shook her head. “Dobby is Pippa’s friend. Pippa and Dobby work for the noble Malfoy family. It is an honour, truly, to work for such great wizards.”

Daphne, who’d settled into a beanbag-chair, snorted nastily as she rocked backwards. Keziah shot her a look.

“You work for the Malfoys?” Daphne asked slowly, ignoring Keziah. “Then why would you want anything to do with us?”

Keziah elbowed Daphne sharply and looked awkwardly at the tiny house elf.

“What Daphne means to say,” she said, “is that we’re just confused on why you’re here. You still haven’t told us.”

“Pippa is here to warn the great Missus Potter not to go back to Hogwarts,” the elf said promptly. “A great evil is coming to the school and Dobby pleads for Pippa to help protect the last heirs of the great Potter legacy.”

“What sort of evil?” Daphne asked suspiciously.

“Pippa does not know,” Pippa admitted guiltily. “Dobby does not say. All Dobby tells Pippa is that she must stop Keziah Potter from going to school. Pippa does not think Master Malfoy would tolerate such a thing but Dobby insists. He says it’s for the... the greater good! We hear so much about the wonderful and noble Harry Potter and his fearsome sister and Pippa can’t possibly let them be destroyed.”

“And how are you going to stop Keziah from going back?” Daphne raised a thin eyebrow.

Pippa suddenly looked embarrassed, ducking her head as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

“Dobby and Pippa hoped that the Potters would not want to return to Hogwarts after they realised their friends did not write anymore. Pippa did not realise that Missus Potter could use telly-phone!”

“Hold on a minute,” Daphne said sharply looking back at Keziah. “ _You_ were the one messing with Harry and Keziah’s mail?”

Keziah wasn’t surprised. She figured that if it wasn’t Dobby, it must’ve been the disturbingly-happy little creature sat in front of them.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“Not really, Daphne,” said Keziah. “She’s just doing what she thinks is right. Pippa, do you have my letters on you?”

The house-elf stared blankly for a few seconds and then reluctantly reached into her pillowcase and held out a small pack of letters tied up with tightly-knotted string. Keziah could recognise Theo’s neat swirls and Blaise’s more chaotic penmanship amongst the parchment.

“Can I have them back?” Keziah asked gently.

“Dobby says not to give them back to Missus Potter until she promises not to go back to Hogwarts,” Pippa sing-songed like a small child.

“Not go back to Hogwarts?” Daphne said incredulously. “Who do you think —”

“If I said yes,” Keziah interrupted, “would it be a magically bound contract?”

“Pippa does not think so,” said the house-elf. “There are rituals for magical contracts. Would Missus Potter like it if Pippa goes back to Malfoy Manor and confirms?”

Keziah shook her head earnestly.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I won’t go back to Hogwarts. Are you happy?”

Pippa suddenly looked very solemn.

“It is not a house elf’s job to be happy,” she said robotically as though repeating something that she’d heard thousands of times. “But Pippa is satisfied with Missus Potter’s answer. You can have your letters back.”

Keziah snatched them away before Pippa had extended her arms fully.

“Thank you, Pippa,” she said quietly. “You can, erm, go back to Dobby now and tell him your job is finished.”

“Wait one more second,” Daphne interjected. “Pippa, if you work at Malfoy’s house, how do you know about the ‘Great and Noble Potter siblings’. I thought the Malfoys hated the Potters. They were Death Eaters, right?”

“Correct,” Pippa hummed. “But all us house-elves know about the Potters. It is all young master Draco will talk about us. After the Lord Malfoy tells him to stop speaking, he comes to the house-elves to speak. Harry Potter comes up a lot in his speeches. It is very interesting.”

Daphne and Keziah exchanged identical grins as they looked back to Pippa.

“What is funny?” she asked.

“Nothing,” they chorused in unison.

Pippa shrugged and bowed.

“I will be off, Missus Potter and other,” she said. “It has been a privilege to speak to you.”

She twisted and with a loud crack, Daphne and Keziah were alone.

“Other?” Daphne scoffed. “I thought house-elves were supposed to be respectful to all wizards!”

“I’ve never seen a house-elf before,” said Keziah truthfully.

“Neither have I, but everybody knows about them. They’re like funny little servants who have to do everything you say! I wish I could order Astoria around like that.” Daphne’s face turned dreamy as she imagined it.

Keziah frowned though. Slave labour, she thought, staring down at her letters with a sick feeling dissolving in her stomach.

“Hey!” Daphne waved a hand in front of Keziah’s face, dragging her out of her reverie.

She smiled awkwardly and flicked through her letters. Most were from Blaise and Theo but a couple were from Ron and there was an odd letter from Hermione in there too. Keziah raised her eyebrows when she spotted a few notes from Hagrid as well as some official notices from St Mungo’s Hospital.

“Do you think Harry’s having to deal with Dobby?” Keziah asked as she read through one of Blaise’s letters, smiling. “Also, can I borrow Duchess so I can apologise to the boys?”

“Is that even a question?” Daphne smiled. “You know, I’m glad you left Aslan with the Weasleys. I’m quite sure Duchess would’ve died from fear with him slinking all around this place.”

“He’s probably having a lovely time,” Keziah mused. “Getting fat on all those field mice.”

*

Daphne’s neighbourhood was so different from the Dursley’s that Keziah couldn't stop smiling. Instead of waking up to the shrill cries of Petunia and the jittering of sprinkler systems, you heard the steady beat of trains passing by. The smell of spices and food was constantly flowing around from the Indian takeaway place just a few houses away. The only thing missing was Harry but Keziah couldn’t pull him away from the Weasleys.

Unlike the almost-militant structure of Privet Drive, you could see children playing when you stepped outside, chasing inflatable footballs around the courtyard of flats.

Keziah and Daphne were in a playground one afternoon, messing around on the rusty swing set that miraculously worked as soon as they sat down.

“I used to get so high whenever I went on these when I was little,” Daphne recalled. “My friends would get mad because they never got up to my level.”

“Little did they know...” Keziah finished mysteriously. It was exhilarating, watching the brittle chains swing her up to a height that shouldn’t have been possible, especially since she couldn’t push it herself.

“Snow Queen?” a voice intruded with a bright laugh.

Daphne scraped her feet on the colourful tarmac and helped Keziah come to a halt too so they could get a good look at the newcomer. It was a boy around their age. He looked vaguely Indonesian, though Keziah could be wrong, with spiky black hair not unlike Harry’s.

“Cinderellis!” Daphne responded with just as much enthusiasm. “I missed you!”

The boy pouted, stepping back.

“Don’t call me Cinderellis,” he snapped.

“Sure, Ellis. As soon as you stop calling me Snow Queen.”

“But you’re so warm and friendly,” Ellis said sarcastically. “Who’s this? A fire sage to match your icy Highness?”

“I’m Keziah Potter,” she cut in confidently.

Ellis’s jaw dropped as his face filled with familiar awe and excitement. Keziah wondered if this boy was also a wizard but one look at Daphne’s confused expression vetoed that theory.

“Potter?” he said shakily. “From Godric’s Hollow?”

Keziah nodded slowly as Ellis got even brighter.

“Dude!” he cried. “You’re an urban legend! I used to live there until a couple of years ago and everyone wanted to know what happened to the Potter family!”

“What do you mean?” Keziah asked apprehensively.

“Everybody knows your story!” Ellis said. “On Halloween night, your house suddenly exploded and Lily and James Potter, the odd young couple living there were murdered. Some old lady saw a giant man appear and go into the house and he left with a basket. Nobody’s been in that house in over a decade because we’re all scared it’s haunted.”

Keziah was stunned as she heard Ellis’s story. Daphne looked entranced.

“There’s a statue of you and your family in the cemetery. According to the authorities, it was a freak gas explosion but my older brother was trick-or-treating nearby. He swears on his life that he saw some scary pale guy with red eyes go in.”

“Wow, Keziah,” Daphne said finally. “Why didn’t you tell me about all of this?”

Keziah was about to ask what her friend was talking about when she saw the blonde’s gritted teeth and flitting eyes.

“It’s not true,” she laughed nervously. “My parents did die but I don’t think there was anything supernatural involved. Harry and I’ve been living with my aunt and uncle all these years. I’m just here visiting Daphne for a few weeks.”

“You’re one of her prissy private boarding school friends, correct?” asked Ellis, calming down.

Daphne, on the other hand, flushed pink. She leaned over and flicked his ear sharply.

“It’s not a prissy private school!” she squealed and Keziah had a funny feeling they’d had this argument before.

“Of course not,” Ellis said as though he didn’t believe her. “It’s just a very old school somewhere in the Scottish Highlands with a private train to get there and it’s so special that most people haven’t heard of it?”

“He got you there, Daph,” Keziah smiled.

“Don’t agree with him!” Daphne hissed in indignation.

Ellis and Keziah started laughing at the same time, doubled over in amusement as they high-fived with shaking limbs.

“I like you, Keziah,” said Ellis.

“This is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

*

Keziah waved halfheartedly as Phoebus Hickory, professional healer and wizarding physiotherapist of St Mungo’s hospital according to his badge, went through the fireplace. He gave her one last sympathetic smile from beyond the lime-green flames before he vanished.

She sat slumped on Ms Walsh’s sofa, hands buried into her hair. Her stomach ached from disappointment and fear and everything else she kept tucked into her sub-conscious. She knew these sessions were supposed to help her get better and Phoebus said she was, but it was hard to be optimistic when she couldn’t stand on her own for little more than half a minute.

Her cane was next to her foot after she’d thrown it down in anger. The same bolt of emotion appeared as she stared down at the long piece of wood and Keziah had the sudden urge to kick it across the living room.

“Has Phoebus left already?” Daphne had come into the living room, holding a large dish covered in clingfilm. “Mum’s wanted him to try her pierogi ever since he said his girlfriend’s Polish and she finally made some.”

“He left,” said Keziah tiredly, “Sorry.”

Daphne frowned and set the plate aside, sitting down next to Keziah.

“Session didn’t go well?” she asked gently. “Chocolate?”

Keziah barely managed a smile as she snapped off a few squares and nibbled them slowly.

“It’s just —” Keziah sighed “— I know it’s a working process and I can’t expect to get better in a month but I wish I didn’t have to drink disgusting potions every morning and depend on this stupid cane!”

The blonde opened her mouth uncertainly as if she wanted to say something, although she wasn’t too sure what that something was.

“And I know it isn’t fair to complain,” she continued, “and other people have it so much worse than me but...”

“You want things to go back to how they were?” Daphne finished quietly, eyes distant.

Keziah nodded numbly and the other girl pulled her closer.

“It’ll get better,” she said eventually. “I can’t promise when but the best thing about life is that bad things go away. And sometimes what you think is bad turns out to be great.”

“Is that right?” Keziah asked, amusement flickering in her voice before dying out.

They sat in silence for a few moments when a question popped up.

“Daphne, have you ever seen a magician?”

“I’m looking at one right now,” Daphne snorted. “And I spent an entire year with them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Keziah said, rolling her eyes fondly. “You know, pulling rabbits out of hats, weird card tricks, stupid moustaches.”

Daphne burst into giggles.

“Oh my lord,” she said almost incoherently. “I remember now. When I was around six, my mum took Astoria and me to see a magician for our birthday.”

“What’s so funny about that?”

“I got so disappointed that it wasn’t proper magic — I mean, you could see the stupid rabbit in his ridiculous pockets — that I accidentally made him pull a new rabbit out of the hat as well as an entire flock of parrots. Mum nearly fainted!”

Keziah’s jaw dropped as she joined Daphne in laughing. Her stomach was still aching but now from joy. They were still snickering when Ms Walsh came in carrying a large woven rug.

“Hello girls,” she hummed, switching on an old vinyl player. “How was your session, Keziah? Did Phoebus like the pierogi?”

“Sorry, mum,” Daphne shrugged. “He left before I could give it to him.”

Ms Walsh sighed.

“Next week then,” she said. “Now clear off kids, I’m doing my yoga. Since Tori’s at her friend’s house, I can relax for once.”

“Yoga?” Daphne gagged, shaking her head. “Come on Keziah, let’s go before my eyes burn out.”

Ms Walsh smiled back at her daughter as the two girls rushed out of the room.

“This is perfect,” Daphne whispered as the door slid shut, her disgusted expression traded for a crafty smirk worthy of Salazar himself.

“Why?”

“I’ve been meaning to show you something but I don’t think Mum would like it,” she said bitterly.

Without another word, she pulled Keziah over to a storage cupboard around the size of a large cardboard box. It was filled with mops and boxes of washing-up powder. Keziah grimaced.

“She wouldn’t want me to see... cleaning supplies?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

Daphne rolled her eyes and grabbed the oldest, most-disgusting mop.

“Of course not,” she said, twisting the grimy handle.

Like a charm, the cupboard melted away and they were standing in something more like a Muggle garage turned hall-of-fame. The shelves were filled with old items that vaguely sparked with magic. There was a pair of knitting needles that were crafting some sort of garment that wasn’t there. A copper kettle faintly whistled.

In the boxes on the floor were old spell-books and vinyl cases. They were all caked in a heavy layer of dust that hadn’t been disrupted in a long time.

It was amazing but the entire room had a strange air of sadness that made Keziah feel like choking.

“What is all this?” she gasped, brushing her fingers over a still-clicking typewriter.

“It’s all our old things,” said Daphne. “Mum got rid of it all when my father left. You know, since it was all magical and she wanted magic out of her life and all.” Daphne paused with a twisted sort of nostalgic smile that made Keziah shiver. “That’s actually how we met the Weasleys.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Mr Weasley used to come around to check our house and give Mum all sorts of citations. She’d rip them up in front of him and say he was being a huge hypocrite. He called her feisty,” she said proudly.

Keziah grinned and looked over at a record player that looked like it hadn’t been touched since the sixties. It had a round disk stuck in it, the label so old that you could barely make out the neon lettering.

“Does this thing still work?” she asked.

Daphne shrugged, chewing on a hangnail as she helped take a closer look.

“Dunno. Let’s try it out.”

After a few minutes, they high-fived as the whine of a guitar came spiralling out of the old machine. It was tinny and quiet but it was something. As the song continued, Keziah recognised it as an old Led Zeppelin song.

“Your mum used to listen to Led Zeppelin?” she laughed.

“Still does,” Daphne corrected, tapping the record player with her wand to make it replay. “Just a more muggle way.”

Keziah shrugged and grabbed Daphne’s hand, twirling her as they swung to the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pippa is my child, I love her so much


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Ableist Language.
> 
> I don't support this kind of language and I'm just adding it in as a sign of the times. If it bothers you, please tell me and I'll remove it.

Getting owls was strange when you lived in a Muggle neighbourhood. Keziah started in confusion as a large, tawny creature flew through the open window and settled haughtily in the middle of the breakfast table. There were three letters secured around its claws.

“Hogwarts letters!” Daphne cried, excitedly. She leaned over immediately, abandoning to grab her parchment and tore it open without regard.

Keziah watched in concern, looking back at the open window which the birds had flown through.

“Won’t Muggles see the owl?” she asked in confusion. “It just flew in — in broad daylight!”

Astoria scoffed around her breakfast as she read her own letter. The girl would be starting Hogwarts this year, Keziah realised.

“Of course not,” Astoria said. “Muggles only see what they want to, don’t they? They’ll probably see the owl but they won’t see him come in here.”

The three girls looked over to Ms Walsh for confirmation. She nodded, scratching the owl gently as she untied Keziah’s letter.

“Us wizards are a strange breed, dear,” she said sagely. “Don’t think about it too hard.”

Daphne and Astoria grinned in agreement. Then Daphne inhaled sharply, before half-choking.

“Daphne!” Ms Walsh cried, thumping her daughter on the back. “Eat slowly.”

“Mum,” she gasped. “Look at this! They want us to buy all of Gilderoy Lockhart’s books. That’s ridiculous.”

Ms Walsh’s eyebrows had settled somewhere around her hairline as she read through the booklist, her mouth moving silently with the words. The paper was crunched at the edges when she was finished reading.

“Two sets of these books!” she said in astonishment. “What does your school think we make? We’re not all Malfoys embezzling and bribing the government.”

Keziah and Daphne eyed each other.

“If they think I’m paying for all this on top of Astoria’s robes and wand and her other things...” Ms Walsh muttered, setting down her plate. “I’ve got to go sort something out girls, excuse me.”

As soon as Ms Walsh left the room, Daphne stared disgustedly down at the booklist. Even Astoria looked far less excited as she dejectedly ate her food in silence.

“How much are Lockhart’s books anyway?” Keziah asked. She’d always been curious about the answer.

“Thirty-five galleons,” Daphne growled. “Around one hundred and seventy-five pounds in Muggle money.”

Keziah’s jaw dropped.

“They can’t seriously expect us to pay that much for a stupid set of books,” she said in disbelief.

“What I’m wondering is who Dumbledore hired that could be such a spaz that they make us buy this stuff?”

“I have a few ideas,” Keziah mumbled under her breath.

Daphne gave her a strange look but was interrupted by another owl swoop into the kitchen. It was a familiar snowy white with beaming pale eyes.

“Hedwig,” Keziah said in excitement, untangling herself from the chair and stroking the owl. She hooted fondly, nipping Keziah’s fingers as she offered the letter in her beak. “Harry got something for me?”

It had been nearly two weeks since Keziah had seen or heard from her brother and she hated to admit it but she missed him. Seeing Hedwig made a ballon of excitement swell in her chest. He hadn’t forgotten about her.

She opened the letter hurriedly, eyes moving over the familiar loops of Harry’s handwriting.

_‘Hey, Keziah,_

_How are you holding up at the Greengrasses? The Weasleys are the greatest. It’s crazy what good living in a decent family can do for you._

_Have you gotten your school letters yet? We have, and now they’re all freaking out because of expensive the books are going to be. I wish I could just share our money with them, but I have a feeling they wouldn't like that very much._

_We’re going on a Diagon Alley trip next Wednesday and I was really hoping if you could come too. You could invite your friends, Daphne and those two boys. Ron and Hermione are coming. And the rest of the Weasleys._

_Please, could you send Hedwig back with a reply?_

_-Harry’_

Keziah smiled as she looked up. Daphne had sat back down and finished off her food.

“What did Wonder Boy say, then?” she drawled.

“How do you feel about going to Diagon Alley next Wednesday?” Keziah asked. “With the Weasleys and Hermione. We could invite Blaise and Theo too.”

“I can see Ginny again?” Astoria said, suddenly looking interested in the conversation.

“If we can go.”

Astoria straightened up and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. They could hear her shouting as she ran around the house searching for her mother.

“Nice to see that she gets along with the Weasels,” Daphne sighed dismally.

Keziah felt a stab of guilt as she looked back at her deflated friend.

“I’m sorry Daphne, I forgot —”

“It’s fine. Don’t let my trauma stop you from having fun. If Blaise and Theo are there, I’ll be fine.”

Keziah grinned slowly, elbowing Daphne in the ribs.

“Especially Blaise, right?” she said slyly.

She was met with a spoonful of jam to the face in response.

*

When Ms Walsh walked back into the kitchen nearly an hour later, she was met with what looked like the aftermath of a food-themed hurricane, with Keziah and Daphne right in the middle of it

*

They were all awoken rather suddenly the following Wednesday with the excited screeches of Astoria who was already dressed and prepared.

“Why can’t you be like this on school days?” Ms Walsh yawned.

Keziah, in the meantime, was trying her best to stop Daphne from attacking her little sister over the early hour wakeup.

After several slices of french toast with lashings of Nutella, they buttoned up their coats and Ms Walsh made her way over to the fireplace. It was a dusty, ancient-looking thing, as though it was stuck in the fourteenth century, while everything else had moved up to the twentieth.

“Keziah, dear,” Ms Walsh asked, “Do you know how to use floo powder?”

“Sort of,” Keziah answered awkwardly. “I’m just wondering how I can manoeuvre with my cane and...”

“Just step in however you can. Then say the words ‘Diagon Alley’ very clearly,” Ms Walsh explained. “Daphne can go first so you can see how it’s done. Then just keep your eyes shut and elbows tucked in the best you can. It’s mostly instinct dear. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Not many people get hurt doing this.”

“Hurt?” Keziah said, her voice cracking.

It was too late, however. Daphne had grabbed a handful of powder from the jar on the mantle and splashed it into the grate. The small embers turned poison green and exploded in heat, rising. Without a hint of fear, Daphne calmly walked into them and within seconds, she’d vanished.

“Now you.”

Swallowing, Keziah stepped over the metal lining, holding her cane tightly. She waited for the burning to start but all she could feel was a wash of warmth over her legs, like a suffocating blanket.

“Diagon Alley,” she said firmly. Ash caught in her throat and the words wavered. Before Keziah could even give Ms Walsh a panicked look, she was sucked downwards.

Keziah was spinning very, very fast as the flames swam through her vision, hurting her head. The roaring in her ears was deafening, like a million different voices screaming at once. Hard metal and stone jutted and scraped against her elbows and Keziah hurriedly tucked them in. She somehow kept a grip on her cane, trembling as the mere force of the spinning kept her upright. Invisible cold hands smacked her face as the glimpses of other wizards flashes across her eyes.

Keziah was spat out onto the tough floor, the hundreds of sensations vanishing as quickly as they had come. Her cane flew across the room, and she collapsed to her knees. Before she could stop herself, she threw up, the contents of her stomach emptied beneath her.

A figure appeared in her blurry vision. They held a thick broom — one for cleaning, not racing — and they wore very sensible shoes.

“First time?” the voice asked.

“Ngk,” Keziah groaned, not trusting herself to speak.

The vomit vanished and Keziah found herself being helped up.

“You’re lucky I’m used to people vomiting on my floors,” the person chuckled, holding out a small pink vial. “Helps with nausea.”

The warning bells in Keziah’s head all pinged at once. She backed away, grappling onto a table before she fell back down. Her vision was steadying slowly and she looked closer at her helper.

The woman was strongly built, with scars running down her dark arms exposed by rolled-up sleeves. Her hair was dark grey and pulled back into a tight bun with several pencils and a wand stuck in it. A dirty washcloth was slung over her broad shoulder. Two tusk-like fangs poked upwards from her mouth and Keziah felt fear settle in her stomach.

“Who are you?” she said. “Where am I?”

“Wispus Tavern,” said the stranger. “I’m Wispus.”

“Where is this place?” Keziah repeated.

She surveyed the place out of the corner of her eyes, still keeping Wispus in focus. The tavern was large and spacious, with merry orange torches burning from every tier. A stuffed manticore head was hung proudly on the wall. Barrels were stacked haphazardly beneath it.

“Diagon Alley o’ course,” said Wispus cheerfully. “Probably not the best business decision but here we are. The real question is what are _you_ doing here? I don’t let minors into this part of the tavern.”

“I — I don’t know,” Keziah stammered. “I need to find my friend.”

“No family?”

“Don’t you recognise me?” Keziah asked.

Wispus looked confused as she stared at Keziah.

“Not a clue,” she said. “Am I supposed to?”

Keziah was about to tell the woman who she was when she stopped. She had no clue who this woman was and telling her her identity could be deadly.

“I need my cane,” she said instead. “Now.”

Wispus pulled out a long staff of wood and twirled it between her large hands.

“This old thing? Flew in here just about when you did.”

Keziah grabbed it before Wispus could finish speaking. Despite how she felt towards it somedays, over the summer she’d gotten so accustomed to it that it felt like she’d lost a limb when it wasn’t in her grip.

“Now, let’s go find your friend, kid.”

Keziah felt herself physically relax when she and Wispus stepped out into the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. They hadn’t been lying. She could spot the bright purple banner of Madame Malkins and even recognised some of the students trailing behind parents.

She grinned as she breathed in the clashing scents of ice-cream, fabric softener and potions. It was disgustingly familiar.

“Potter?”

The pale, pointed face of Draco Malfoy emerged from the crowd, wearing a surprised sneer. It was strange to see with absent of the company of Crabbe and Goyle.

“Where are your guard-dogs, Draco?” Keziah asked.

“I can function without Crabbe and Goyle, you know,” Draco snapped.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

Draco looked furious as his eyes slid to focus on Wispus, who waved pleasantly.

“Is this your friend, Miss?” she asked.

Keziah shook her head darkly and Draco’s sneer deepened.

“You’d think you’d improve your company since last year, Keziah, but clearly not,” he hissed.

“At least my company is willing,” Keziah bit back. “How much is your father paying Crabbe and Goyle again?”

“Leave my father out of this.”

“If you can’t manage that for more than twenty seconds, why should I even try?”

Their argument was interrupted by the appearance of Malfoy Senior. It was like looking into a mirror of Draco’s future, with long hair and a crueller expression.

“Draco, who is this?” Mr Malfoy asked quietly. “I didn’t think I’d raised a son who dared be seen in a Weasley’s presence.”

“And you haven’t, Sir,” Keziah said. “I’m a Potter.”

Mr Malfoy’s eyes widened in recognition and Keziah saw as he did some very quick mental maths. Then his sneer turned into a smile oilier than Snape’s hair.

“Ah,” he said. “The fabled Miss Potter. Draco has spoken of you and your brother. Almost too much. I feel like I know you personally.”

Keziah resisted a smirk as she watched Draco turn a deep pink.

“Father,” he muttered but Mr Malfoy took zero notice.

“I was informed that you got the top marks for Potions and was in the top five for Transfiguration,” he carried on.”

“Yes. Sir,” Keziah coughed awkwardly.

Wispus was still standing behind her, waiting patiently for the Malfoys to shut up and move on.

“It seems you have inherited your parent’s skills,” he mused, eyeing her cane and Wispus with immense distaste. “But it’s obvious it has not done you any good.”

“I think we’ll be going now,” Wispus cut in, as she led Keziah away from the two.

Mr Malfoy and Draco looked stunned as Keziah pleasantly waved goodbye, the former’s eyes flashing dangerously.

“They were lovely,” Wispus sighed in a steely voice, breaking up the tension. Keziah laughed.

“Keziah! Keziah!”

She whirled around and grinned in surprise as she saw Blaise and Theo waving enthusiastically. A stone arch was closing behind them, turning back into an ordinary brick wall. Theo’s hair had grown out so it hung in lazy curls that barely framed his face. Blaise, on the other hand, looked the same.

“These your friends?” Wispus murmured.

Keziah nodded excitedly. Wispus smiled and patted her heavily on the shoulder.

“Then I’ll be off,” she said. “Stay safe, Miss Potter.”

The crowd swallowed Wispus’s giant frame just as Blaise and Theo reached her.

“What were you doing with a half-breed?” Theo asked.

Keziah shot him an angry look at the slur.

“I was looking for Daphne and her mum,” she admitted. “Travelling by floo did _not_ go as planned.”

“It rarely ever does,” Blaise sighed.

“Where do you think the Greengrasses are?” Theo said.

Blaise, the tallest of them all, craned his neck and squinted over the heads of the crowd.

“No clue,” he murmured. “You’d think that blonde hair would be easy to see.”

“Maybe they’re up at Gringotts,” Theo suggested. “You can see all of Diagon from those stairs.”

The three children slowly made their way through the crowd, gently pushing and shoving with the general use of elbows.

Eventually, they found their way to the gleaming marble steps of Gringotts bank. They all sighed in relief at the sight of Ms Walsh talking worriedly to Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley, all the children crowding them anxiously.

“Looks like weasels have come to roost,” Theo commented with a smirk.

Ignoring him, Keziah snuck through the crowd until she was right behind Harry. The others hadn’t noticed her yet, probably thanks to her featuring helping her blend in.

“Whatcha talking about, Harry?” she asked cheerfully, tapping the boy on the shoulder.

“We’re trying to find Kezi — Keziah!” Harry exclaimed, turning around and hugging her tightly. “Where have you been?”

Harry’s shouts attracted everyone else. Daphne squealed and bowled through the others.

“We were so worried!” she shrieked. “We were thinking of alerting the Ministry if you didn’t turn up soon.”

Everybody else clamoured for Keziah’s attention and their questions bombarded her like an overflowing dam. She backed away nervously.

“QUIET!” Ms Walsh’s voice boomed, bringing the shouts to a screeching stop. “You can get your answers but stop crowding her!”

The Weasleys and Hermione and Astoria backed away in mild shames, mutters of the word ‘sorry’ popping up a few times.

“Now,” Ms Walsh said in a softer tone. “Keziah, dear, what happened?”

“I think I just went a fireplace too far,” Keziah laughed. “I popped up in this place called the Wispus Tavern and the owner was walking around with me until I found somebody I knew.”

“Then where are they?”

“Wispus left when I found the boys,” Keziah explained, pointing backwards.

Helpfully, Blaise and Theo burst from the crowd just as she jabbed her thumb. Blaise was yelling at someone behind him, while Theo shook himself.

“There you are!” Daphne cried, jumping down the stairs and hugging the boys.

Keziah smirked when Blaise suddenly became very interested in his robes as Daphne let go. Theo rolled his eyes and dragged the other boy up the stairs. Ms Walsh nodded and clapped her hands.

“Everyone’s here now, right?” she asked.

There was a murmur of assent. Keziah saw Ron give her a salute out of the corner of her eye, which she returned happily.

“I don’t think the goblins would appreciate so many of us going in at once,” said Mr Weasley, adjusting his glasses.

“How about some of us just stay out here?” Daphne suggested.

“Blaise and I can,” Theo volunteered. “My father already withdrew money for us both the other day.”

He patted his side pocket.

“Then it’s settled,” Ms Walsh said. “Daphne, Theo and Blaise can stay outside and —”

“So will I,” Keziah interrupted. “Harry can get money for both of us, can’t you, Harry?”

Harry nodded awkwardly.

“Then Daphne, Keziah and the boys can stay — no Astoria, you’re staying with me — and the rest of us can get the money.”

As everybody nodded, Keziah sat down on the white marble steps, followed by Daphne, Theo and Blaise.

“So,” Blaise said once they were left alone. “Are you going to explain why Theo and I received radio silence from you up until three weeks ago?”

Daphne snickered nastily at Blaise’s words, looking down at the stone.

“Something funny?” Theo asked.

Keziah quickly explained what had happened over the summer, from her thrilling escape from the Dursleys — read: Ms Walsh coming and yelling at Vernon until he went pale — to the antics of Draco’s house-elves.

“Malfoy talks about you and Harry that much?” Theo laughed. “Looks like we’re going to have some fun this year.”

“Do you think they were being serious?” Blaise wondered aloud. “About the whole ‘danger is coming to Hogwarts’ schtick?”

Daphne sat up very suddenly and very straight, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“We didn’t think about that,” she murmured. “We had all that mess with Quirrel and Hagrid’s pets last year...”

“And we might have to do it all again this year?” Blaise finished faintly.

Keziah snorted as she looked at her friends.

“Need I remind you,” she said. “That you lot didn’t face any of that. I did. And if something happens again this year, we’ll face it all over again.”

“But that’s my point,” Daphne said loudly. “I don’t want you or anybody f0r that matter to face anything this year! We go to Hogwarts to learn and have fun with friends — not to fight monsters or evil overlords! We’re kids.”

“Have you thought about the fact that this could all be a prank from Malfoy?” Theo coughed. “They’re his house elves so he could’ve ordered them to mess around with you and Harry.”

“That’s probably what’s going on,” Blaise agreed weakly.

Keziah bit her lip and looked away. She wished that she could just alert everybody about what was going to happen and then be done with it. If only Mr Malfoy couldn’t give Ginny that stupid diary...

Keziah felt a metaphorical lightbulb pop up in her mind. She could steal the diary. No Horcrux meant no way for Tom Riddle to start possessing Ginny. Surely it would be simple to steal the little black book from the youngest Weasley, especially in the hubbub of Flourish and Blotts.

“Keziah?”

Her eyes widened as Daphne’s snapping fingers broke her out of her thoughts.

“So what do think of Gilderoy Lockhart, eh?” Daphne asked once satisfied that Keziah was paying attention.

“I saw posters of him while we were passing Flourish and Blotts,” said Theo. “Dunno why women are so obsessed with him. He just looks like a smarmy git to me.”

“You can be a smarmy git and still look good,” Blaise sniffed.

The other three stared at him in disbelief. Blaise immediately looked away.

“Moving on from that totally not-weird sentiment,” Daphne said, side-eyeing Blaise. “Who do you think was in their right mind to make us buy all those books?”

“I bet it was Lockhart himself,” said Theo.

Keziah stared at him in astonishment.

“I mean think about it,” Theo continued conspiratorially, “the guy’s all about publicity. His face is on the front cover of all his books for Merlin’s sake! His name is bigger than the title. What better way to get sales up than to make a whole school buy them. They’re thirty-five galleons a set and there are several hundred students. Lockhart would be swimming in money by the time term starts. It’s a scheme worthy of Salazar.”

Daphne and Blaise had joined Keziah in staring at Theo.

“Too bad he’s a Ravenclaw.”

Blaise looked at Theo for several seconds before suddenly swinging his arm around the other boy’s neck and getting way too close to his face.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!”

“Inspecting for wrackspurts,” Blaise said, pulling up Theodore’s ears comically. “You’re being extremely paranoid. It’s a sign, you know.”

Theo looked like he’d been force-fed a spoonful of lemon juice. He wrenched himself away and shook himself off like a very angry dog.

“I told you, Blaise!” he barked, “That magazine is all lies.”

“What magazine?” Keziah asked.

“The Quibbler,” Theo sighed. “A copy got dropped off at our house by accident and this idiot believes it.”

Blaise shrugged. “There’s no proof to say they don’t exist.”

“There are several papers worth of proof!” Theo screeched and Keziah guessed they’d had this conversation before, judging by Blaise’s smirk and the nerve on Theo’s forehead.

Suddenly, Keziah had a sinking suspicion that the boy didn’t avidly believe in The Quibbler but rather just enjoyed winding up Theo.

“I think your attitude is just because of your wrackspurts infestation,” he hummed.

It was a very good thing that the others came out of the bank at that very moment, making it much easier for Keziah and Daphne to stop Theo from launching himself at a cackling Blaise.

“Did we miss anything?” asked Ms Walsh with a small laugh.

The children all looked at each other in unison.

“Nah,” they chorused.

The group stopped on the very bottom step as they all realised that everybody had different destinations.

Mrs Weasley and Ms Walsh were buying Ginny and Astoria their things for Hogwarts, while Mr Weasley wanted to take Hermione’s parents, who Keziah only just noticed, for drinks in the Leaky Cauldron. Percy Weasley was muttering under his breath about needing new quills and the Weasley twins had spotted Lee Jordan, a friend of theirs.

“We meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour?” Mrs Weasley suggested. “That gives everybody plenty of time to wander around!”

Before she had even finished speaking, everybody started walking.

“And not one step down Knockturn Alley!” she yelled at the twins’ retreating backs before she grabbed Ginny and her small party left.

Only the group of second-years-to-be were left. Harry was watching Keziah expectantly, Ron and Hermione standing awkwardly behind him.

“Let’s go, Keziah,” Daphne prompted, side-eyeing the Gryffindors tensely.

“But —” Keziah said, looking back at Harry.

“I’ll see you at Flourish and Blotts,” he said uncomfortably.

Without a second word, Harry, Ron and Hermione had vanished.

“Let’s roll,” said Blaise, pointing his thumbs behind him.

“Why do you act like that?” Keziah said harshly, ignoring Blaise and glaring at Daphne. “Harry’s my brother; the least you can do is be pleasant. God knows he’s lovely to you.”

Daphne’s cheeks went dark red but she didn’t answer, looking everywhere except Keziah’s face.

“Let’s just get our things,” she mumbled.

The air around them was icy despite the bright sun beating down and burning the back of their necks. Theo and Blaise half-heartedly pointed out some of the more ridiculous-sounding sales (‘Twenty ounces of bat wings for the price of nineteen? Who would fall for that!)

After a few minutes, they passed a book shop. The gleaming brass read ‘Obscurus Book and Publisher’. The small window had books stood on easels, the prices scrawled on cardboard signs.

On the front door was a small wooden notice that read ‘Second-hand Hogwarts booklists!’ in bright letters.

“Look at this,” said Keziah, her mind working like cogs. “Instead of paying thirty-five bloody galleons, let’s see if this place has them for less.”

Theo and Blaise’s noses wrinkled in unison and they stepped away from the shop.

“Buy our books...” Blaise said slowly.

“Second-hand?” Theo finished with a scandalised scowl. “Like some sort of —”

“I wouldn’t advise you to finish that sentence,” Keziah said quietly, glaring at him.

Theo’s eyes widened a fraction and he bowed his head.

“Lead the way,” he muttered.

Keziah glared at the boys one last time before she shoved open the heavy-set door. Daphne still hadn’t said a word, her eyes sad as she looked around the shop’s interior.

It was a quaint shop, with books stacked on small tables and in shelves that reached the ceiling. The cash register was an old fashioned one, with shiny metal buttons and a lever. The desk was decorated with chains of flowers and the boy working the stall was slumped over, half-asleep.

However, as soon as the children entered, he sat up straight and adjusted his name tag in sleepy surprise. He looked no older than eighteen.

“Welcome to Obscurus Books,” he said quickly. “My name is Andy and I will be your server today.”

“Do you have Gilderoy Lockhart’s full set of books?” Keziah asked.

The shop-hand, Andy, pointed to two tables in the back, pushed together as they barely accommodated the number of books forced onto them. Theo grimaced.

“How are there this many second-hand copies?” he asked. “These editions were only published a year ago.”

Andy scoffed, before quickly disguising it as a cough.

“Printing error,” he explained. “Had Mr Lockhart’s assistant come down here with two huge boxes of books, saying they were all ‘too imperfect’ to sell upfront. Flipped through a few of em and it turns out Mr Lockhart’s name was misspelt. Dunno how we’re going to get through all these. They take up so much space.”

Theo looked slightly appeased, although his eyes still raked the other shelves with an upper-class sneer. Blaise was still frowning.

“Could I take a look?” he said, already walking over and leafing through the books like a hawk.

Keziah smiled awkwardly and hurried over as well, Theo following her and Daphne behind him.

As Andy had said, the books were in pristine condition. Some of the tomes’ dustjacket hadn’t even been creased and there weren’t any signs of fingerprints. Theo’s eyebrows were raised in appreciation as he turned several novels over, scrutinising for a default.

“How much are these again?”

“Erm, two galleons each but they’re ten galleons a set.”

Daphne hummed in thought, speaking for the first time in half an hour.

“I’m sure the Weasleys would appreciate this very much, don’t you think Keziah?” she asked. “It would be a nice gift.”

Keziah looked at her and saw the metaphorical olive branch Daphne held out, eyes hopeful.

“Thirty-five galleons alone could get us three sets,” Keziah agreed.

She nodded slightly as Daphne started to open her mouth again. ‘ _It’s okay._ ’ Daphne’s face lit up and she smiled as she walked over to the shop-hand.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, with a beaming, doe-eyed look. “I have a question.”

“Shoot,” Andy smiled.

“Would you get in trouble if we took some of these books off your hands? For free?” she asked, twirling her loose strands of hair.

“I’m afraid that giving away free books defeats the purpose of business,” he said.

Daphne sighed in exaggeration, looking so disappointed that even Keziah felt sorry.

“Oh,” she said. “I was just asking because you were talking about how these books aren’t selling so well and my —” her voice dropped to a sorrowful whisper “— family isn’t doing so well with money these days.”

Andy suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“I suppose I could help you,” he said finally. “How many sets do you need?”

“Five,” Daphne said promptly.

“You want me to give you fifty galleons worth of books?” Andy squawked. “My manager would kill me!”

“But there are so many! And I thought you said you wanted to get rid of them!”

Andy stood there for several seconds, deep in thought as he avoided Daphne’s eye. The silence stretched on and just as Keziah was about to just offer to pay and then lie to the Weasleys about it, he spoke.

“I guess,” he muttered reluctantly, “that I could just duplicate the missing copies. I don’t think my manager would notice. Are you sure you need five?”

Daphne nodded, her lower lip trembling. Andy winced and looked back at the books, chewing his lip.

“What about you three?” he asked sharply.

“I’m paying for my sets,” Keziah said quickly.

Theo and Blaise nodded as well.

Andy grinned in relief and moved towards the counter. He heavily patted down the register, sending clouds of dust spiralling into the air.

“Then just get the books you need and come up here,” he said.

As Keziah started to load up the books, Theo stopped her and shook his head subtly.

“How many sets are you buying?” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Just because the Weasels are covered doesn’t mean that the rest of us are,” he said lowly. “What about Daphne and Astoria... and your brother, I guess?”

“I’ll buy for Daphne,” Blaise volunteered enthusiastically.

Teasingly, the two grinned at him in unison before the plan carried on.

“Then I’ll buy for Astoria,” said Keziah.

“What about Harry?” asked Blaise, stacking books over the tip of his head.

“I have a feeling that he’s not going to need any of these,” she said.

Several minutes later, Andy shoved them out of the shop with several towering packages crammed into brown bags.

“Please don’t come back,” he said, slamming the doors in their faces and turning the sign.

The children all looked at each other and cracked up as they hurried away.

“You were brilliant back there!” said Keziah in amazement. “You had him fooled.”

Daphne smiled shyly, her face bright pink under the praise.

By the time they got back to Flourish and Blotts, the shop was packed, with a queue snaking around the entire shop. Using their books like battering rams, Keziah, Daphne, Blaise and Theo struggled inside.

They saw Harry, Ron and Hermione also pushing through the crowds.

“Harry!” Keziah called, waving her hand in a few middle-aged witches’ faces.

After a few shouts, the children had shoved their way over to the Gryffindor trio.

“What’s with the parcels?” asked Harry.

“We found a shop that was selling Lockhart’s books for only ten galleons a set,” said Keziah excitedly.

“Ten galleons?” half-shouted Ron. “I’ve got to tell Mum!”

Daphne pulled him back before the red-head went tumbling through the mass.

“No need, Weasley,” she said. “We got a whole bunch for free.”

“Free?” said Hermione dubiously. “Please tell me you didn’t steal!”

“Don’t worry, Granger,” Theo drawled. “We didn’t need to. The man working the shop gave them to us after Daphne asked.”

Ron coughed, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

“How many did you get, exactly?”

“Ten,” Keziah said promptly. It wasn’t lying, per se, more like omitting information. “Apparently Lockhart didn’t want to sell them because they spelt his name wrong.”

“Ten?” Ron asked, his voice strangled. “Like —”

Daphne sighed, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

“I guess you and your family could have a few,” she said reluctantly. “It’s not like I’d get you things on purpose, Weasley.”

She winked and Ron relaxed, though his ears turned red. Hermione, on the other hand, looked like she was sucking something very sour.

Behind them, a witch snapped something rude, and the children were reminded that they should probably move out of the way and find the others. After Daphne passed over the five textbooks, they began moving again. Keziah adjusted her cane, but Harry stopped her.

“That was really nice of you guys,” he said, his eyes beaming and his face solemn.

Keziah smiled back but didn’t respond, clumsily twisting around Harry and moving forward.

By the time they found Mrs Weasley and the others, Gilderoy Lockhart had come into view. He was sitting at a ridiculously-large desk, portraits of himself showing off their gleaming smiles. His robes were a deep forget-me-not blue and his hat was the same shade, perched jauntily on his permed hair.

“Isn’t he fantastic?” Hermione stage-whispered, practically bouncing up and down.

“Fantastically idiotic,” Keziah and Daphne snorted.

Hermione sniffed and moved away.

“Jinx,” Daphne grinned as the line inched forwards.

There was a short, stocky man bouncing around Lockhart carrying a large camera that Keziah might’ve seen in a Victorian museum. Her guess was confirmed by the giant plumes of black smoke that steadily wheezed out of the ancient shutter.

“Out of the way,” he snarled at Ron. “This is for the Daily Prophet!”

“Oh how absolutely brilliant,” Keziah said loudly. “I didn’t know we needed two hundred photos of the same blonde-haired pillock.”

Gilderoy Lockhart heard her and looked up, peering into the crowd to found out who’d insulted him so openly. He zeroed in on Harry and Keziah and his grin got wider and creepily predatory. He jumped to his feet and gestured widely with his arms.

“It can’t be — the Potter children?”

The crowd burst into excited whispers, parting like the red sea. Lockhart dived forward and seized Harry and Keziah’s arms, trying to pull them into his photoshoot. Keziah wrenched her arm roughly away, swearing loudly as it banged into the corner of a table, pain shooting up it.

Harry, on the other hand, hadn’t been so lucky. Lockhart held him in a vice-grip as he beamed into the camera clicking so fast, the sound blended.

“You okay?” Theo asked quietly, steadying Keziah as she fiddled with her cane.

“Since I’m not up there?” she hissed through her teeth. “Perfect.”

Theo didn’t answer, his lips curled upwards as he watched Harry struggle to escape Lockhart.

After several minutes, Lockhart finally let go of Harry’s hand and Keziah watched in mild amusement as he tried to sneak back to their group when Lockhart suddenly threw his arm around Harry’s shoulder and he was dragged back.

Ms Walsh moved over to Keziah and Theo, watching the entire charade with barely held back disgust.

“Using a child for publicity,” she said under her breath. “Absolutely disgraceful. He’s a child, not a mascot.”

It was at that moment when Lockhart smarmily announced his newest job position. Harry was, again, put under the spotlight as the author presented him with an entire set of books, winking and laughing to the cheering crowds.

Ms Walsh scowled and adjusted her purse.

“I’m going outside for some fresh air,” she said. “See you, children, in a few minutes.”

Keziah waved goodbye and moved over to Harry, who was dark red as he dropped the books into Ginny’s new cauldron.

“That must’ve been fun,” she said, grinning.

“About as much as being in Potions class,” Harry grumbled, rubbing his hands.

There was a sudden disruption as Draco appeared, pushing his way through until he stood face to face with Keziah, Harry and Ginny.

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you Potter?” Draco sneered with relish. “Famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”

Keziah opened her mouth to defend her brother when Ginny cut her off.

“Leave him alone,” she said sharply. “He didn’t want all that!”

Draco’s sneer deepened.

“Look at that,” he drawled. “Potter’s got himself a little girlfriend.”

Ginny went scarlet and recoiled. Keziah took one look at the girl and glared at Draco.

“Draco,” she asked sweetly. “Wasn’t your father talking about how much you talked about Harry? _All_ summer, he said? I don’t think Ginny’s the only one with a little crush. Feeling jealous?”

The blonde went a pale pink, furious and embarrassed. Harry also looked embarrassed, his face flaming even more than it’d been with Lockhart.

“Shut your mouth,” Draco snarled.

“That wasn’t a no,” Keziah smirked.

Ron and Hermione had managed to fight their way over by now, Hermione’s arms full of books. The Weasley’s nose wrinkled as he stared down Draco.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Ron, as though Draco was something disgusting he’d found on his shoes. “Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here.”

“Not as surprised to see you in a shop,” Draco shot back, still hurt and angry from Keziah’s comment. “I suppose your parents will have to go hungry for a month to pay for all that.”

Ron turned dark red, nearly jumping out at Draco before Harry and Hermione held him back.

“Come now Draco,” said Keziah, “not everyone’s fathers can steal from right under Fudge’s nose. Most people have morals.”

Draco looked even angrier, puffing up when Daphne pushed past Keziah, wand out threateningly.

“Make one move and your father will be scraping your sorry self off the floor,” she said flatly.

He hesitated for a moment and Daphne’s glare deepened.

“Kids!” Mr Weasley said, breaking the rising tension. He’d struggled over with Fred and George in tow. “What are you doing? It’s mad in here, let’s go outside.”

“Well, well, well, Mr Arthur Weasley.”

Keziah resisted rolling her eyes as Mr Malfoy rolled up to the party, putting his hand on Draco’s shoulder, an identical sneer upon his face.

Lucius,” Mr Weasley nodded coldly, the warmth melting out of his face.

“Busy time at the Ministry,” Mr Malfoy mused. “All those raids... I hope they’re paying you overtime.”

He reached into Ginny’s cauldron and brought out a very battered copy of _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_.

“Obviously not,” he said. “Dear me, what is the point of being a disgrace to wizarding kind if they don’t even pay you well for it.”

“We have a very different idea of what counts as a disgrace to wizards,” said Mr Weasley.

“Clearly,” Mr Malfoy said, his pale eyes raking the apprehensive Grangers. “And I thought your family could sink no lower...”

There was a thud of metal as Ginny’s cauldron went flying. Mr Weasley had launched himself at Mr Malfoy and the entire shop was thrown into chaos.

Daphne tapped Keziah’s shoulder, her eyes wide as she pulled her away.

“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “Mum’s waiting outside.”

Keziah tore her eyes away from the fight and nodded grimly. They found Theo and Blaise and made their way out of the shop. It was to their surprise that Draco was there too, sitting with his knees up to his chest, staring blankly at the pavement.

As soon as they stepped outside, he jumped to his feet, avoiding eye contact.

“You okay, Malfoy?” Blaise asked uncertainly.

“Why do you care?” he barked, pulling away.

“Don’t shout at him,” Daphne called. “He was just trying to be nice — something you’re not capable of.”

“Just go away,” he said.

Daphne, Theo and Blaise turned away, walking up to Ms Walsh who was sitting in the local cafe. Keziah was about to follow when she looked back.

“Just so you know,” she said softly, “I’m totally beating you in Potions this year. Get ready.”

She smiled gently and Draco didn’t speak.

Then, he didn’t get the chance as Mr Malfoy swept out the shop, a purple bruise blooming over his right eye as he pulled his son away.

The Weasleys emerged soon after, Mrs Weasley all but shouting at Mr Weasley as the others trailed awkwardly behind.

They were a subdued group as they walked towards the Leaky Cauldron. While the Weasleys were going straight home and the Grangers had already left through Muggle London, Ms Walsh had offered to take the others out for dinner before Blaise and Theo would stay for the night.

“What a day,” she said softly. “At least I didn’t have to pay for those blasted books.”

Keziah and Daphne glanced at each other and looked away again quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've already signed the adoption papers for the entire cast of this story. Next question?


	4. Chapter 4

Ellis’s face was dropped in shock as Keziah grinned toothily.

“So you have normal subjects,” he asked shakily, “and you have Botany? And Astronomy? The year 9s get to learn to take care of exotic creatures! You have an aviary?”

“I’m not saying no,” she hummed.

Daphne came into the garden at that moment, carrying a plate of sandwiches. As soon as she heard the conversation, she came sprinting up the grass.

“Keziah!” she said sharply. “What have you been telling him?”

Keziah and Ellis both smiled innocently at Daphne, though mischief shone in their eyes.

“Nothing terrible,” Ellis said. “Keziah was just telling me all about your school’s curriculum.”

Daphne’s face hardened and her lips thinned.

“What did you say?” she repeated.

“I was just telling Ellis about our Herb — Botany classes and our Astronomy ones,” Keziah smiled.

Daphne sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“You’re ridiculous,” she sighed. “I can see why you’re getting along so well.”

Keziah and Ellis gasped in mock-offence. Daphne looked even more tired.

“You should give us a chance, Snow Queen,” said Ellis. “Fire Sage and I are perfectly normal.”

“Debatable,” Keziah sing-songed and Daphne scoffed.

Ellis smiled at them.

“You know, Fire Sage, it feels like I’ve known you forever,” he said. “This summer’s gone by so fast! Now you two are going back to your prissy private school and I’m stuck here with my fellow peasants.”

“You’ve still got Anna and Finch,” Daphne reasoned, referring to some of their other friends who Keziah had met over the summer once or twice.

Ellis nodded sadly.

“But it is not the same as the icy Snow Queen and her fiery Sage,” he cried dramatically.

“This is why you got an award for theatre,” Daphne sighed and shook her head fondly.

*

The first of September dawned dark and gloomy, the rain pattering miserably on Daphne’s window-pane as her alarm jolted them into consciousness.

Keziah stared at the metal gadget with sleepy anger as she buried her head in her pillow. Seconds later, a stuffed animal knocked the alarm off into a pile of dirty clothes, effectively silencing it.

The girls enjoyed a full two seconds of silence before Astoria burst into the room, singing at the top of her lungs.

“Wake up!” she hollered.

Daphne mumbled incoherently and threw a different stuffed animal towards the door frame. However, Astoria wasn’t deterred. Dodging the fluffy missile, she marched across the room and wrenched the covers from her sister’s bed and Keziah’s air mattress.

“What did you do that for?” Keziah groaned, curling in on herself to retain some sort of warmth.

“You have to wake up,” Astoria insisted. “It’s already eight o’clock!”

With a lot of grumbles and half-spoken swears, the girls did get up and Astoria carried on with her song.

Despite having packed up almost everything over the last week, there were still things to do. It took Keziah and Daphne a stupidly large amount of time to sneak the old record player into their trunk.

Then, Astoria misplaced her transfiguration book and suddenly the whole house was being turned upside down to find the thing. Daphne ended up finding it under Astoria’s pillow and Ms Walsh nearly blew a fuse. It would’ve been funny if they hadn’t been searching for nearly twenty minutes.

By the time everything was ready, it was nearing ten. Keziah was still brushing off the crumbs of her breakfast as she tied the laces of the shoes Ms Walsh insisted she could have.

“How are we going to get there on time?” Daphne asked worriedly. “It’s already ten and it takes an hour from here to King’s Cross.”

“Forty minutes,” Ms Walsh corrected tensely. “We’ll be perfectly fine. The Muggles don’t have to notice the speed charms and neither do the Ministry.”

Astoria grinned mischievously while Daphne’s lips pursed tightly.

“Mum,” she warned.

Ms Walsh smiled gently.

“Daphne,” she said. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

Daphne still looked upset, for whatever reason Keziah couldn’t decipher. She hugged her friend gently, resting her head against Daphne’s.

*

Just as Ms Walsh had said, they arrived at the busy London station with time to spare. They rushed along to find the platform, struggling with the trolleys stacked up with trunks. Several people were milling around in colourful robes and Keziah wondered how she hadn’t spotted the year before. She even had some people turn and wave in recognition.

“We’re going to be second-years,” Daphne said excitedly as they passed smoothly into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. “This is crazy.”

Now that they were actually in the platform, Keziah could see even more familiar faces. She could see some of the girls on the Gryffindor Quidditch team talking excitedly to Oliver Wood and Lee Jordan. Pansy Parkinson also crossed her view, with Millicent Bulstrode and Lily Moon in tow.

Lily looked incredibly different from before the summer. Her hair was a natural colour and done up similar to Millicent’s and her iconic dreamy look was wiped from her face.

“What’s up with Lily?” Keziah pointed her out to Daphne.

“Oh no. I thought Lily was nice but she’s gone and copied them...”

Before Daphne could get herself too worked up over Lily Moon’s change in appearance, Blaise and Theo appeared. Blaise looked happier than he had in Diagon Alley and even Theo’s face was twitched slightly upwards.

“We’re not the youngest!” Blaise crowed. “We can officially bully the littlies.”

“Littlies?” Daphne raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin.

“Using that kind of language just proves you should be back to home tutoring,” Theo said snarkily.

“Seeing as my tutor was an asshole on all accounts,” said Blaise, “I don’t think so.”

“Language,” Daphne snapped.

“Yes, Blaise, you should mind your language,” Ms Walsh interjected.

The boy jumped and rubbed his neck uncomfortably.

“Sorry, Ms Walsh,” he coughed.

Ms Walsh just smiled before she turned to Daphne.

“Astoria’s waiting for you in a compartment,” she said. “Go find her. If you ditch her, I will find out.”

“Mum, I’m not going to abandon my little sister on her first train —”

Ms Walsh interrupted Daphne’s defence with a single glance. Daphne stopped talking and nodded, mumbling under her breath.

“To the rest of you,” Ms Walsh continued, “I wish you a brilliant year. I’ll be sending along some sweets to get you through your first week.”

She hugged all of the children tightly, before giving Daphne and Keziah kisses on the head.

It hadn’t hit her until that moment, but Keziah realised with a jolt that it had been over a year since she’d seen her mother. She quickly seized Ms Walsh just as tightly, trying her best not to cry.

“I’d better be going now,” said Ms Walsh finally, checking her watch. “Daphne, darling, can you tell Astoria I’m absolutely sorry I can’t see her off all the way.”

“It’s fine, Mum,” said Daphne. “At least you’re here. Unlike some people...”

Ms Walsh frowned.

“Daphne, don’t be like that,” she pleaded. “You know why he couldn’t be here.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

Ms Walsh sighed and pulled Daphne into another hug.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she said.

With those words, Ms Walsh twisted on the spot and as a harsh crack followed, she was gone.

Keziah looked back at Blaise and Theo who both seemed shell-shocked. It was strange to see Theo who was usually so impassive, with tears at the edge of his eyes.

“You guys okay?” Keziah asked gently.

“I just forgot how it feels to be hugged by a mother like that,” Theo said quietly and Blaise nodded.

They stood in silence for a few moments, individually wrapped up in their own problems. Then Daphne sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes.

“We should go,” she said. “They’ve started closing the doors. Tori’s probably wondering where we are.”

Keziah, Theo and Blaise all gave murmurs of assent, not ready to speak yet. As they boarded the train, Ginny Weasley suddenly came running up towards them.

“Have you seen Harry and Ron?” she asked. “They were supposed to follow after Dad but they haven’t turned up. Mum just told me to get on the train and she said she’d handle it, but I’m still worried.”

Keziah felt like kicking herself. The flying car, how could she have forgotten? She stared guiltily at the littlest Weasley, unsure what to say, but Daphne saved her.

“Haven’t seen them. I’m sure they’ll turn up soon,” she said. “Do you want to come and sit with us? Astoria’s waiting in the compartment and you guys are friends, right? I bet it’s better than sitting with your brothers.”

Ginny brightened instantly and followed Daphne with an added spring in her step. Theo and Blaise hung back.

“Does the she-Weasel have to come with us?” Blaise hissed. “It’s bad enough there’s one little kid.”

Theo threw back his head and laughed.

“Calm down,” he said. “I don’t like the she-Weasel either but we’re not that much older.”

Blaise stuck his tongue out and Keziah laughed.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” she said. “I need to find somebody.”

Keziah set down the train’s hallway, the unsteady floors jolting her every few seconds, even with her cane. As she passed the several windows, she waved to a few people inside. However, most of the time it was people staring and pointing at her before they turned away, chattering excitedly.

So this was how Harry felt, she thought dryly.

After what felt like forever, Keziah was close to giving up. She couldn’t find Hermione anywhere. There were only a few compartments left and even though her legs ached, it felt like a waste to not check them.

This was a good idea, seeing as Keziah found the bushy-haired Gryffindor curled up in the last compartment, reading one of the Lockhart books. Her eyes were red and puffy and Keziah could see her breathing was unstable as she turned the pages.

Without hesitation, she pushed open the door and sat next to the girl.

“Don’t I get a hello?” she joked, breaking the silence.

Hermione’s head snapped up at the speed of light. She hurriedly wiped her eyes when she saw who it was, giving a watery smile.

“Oh, hello Keziah!” she said. “How have you been?”

“The crying girl asks me this,” Keziah smiled wryly.

Hermione sighed, looking down at her book.

“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just... I can’t find Harry and Ron anywhere. Do you think they’re avoiding me? I’ve never been good with friends. I’m surprised it took them this long to leave.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Keziah said immediately. “I don’t know where they are either. And Ginny doesn’t either. Knowing them, they might’ve accidentally missed the train. It’s Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Think of everything that happened last year.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” said Hermione, looking much happier.

“Do you want to come back to my compartment?” Keziah offered. “I’d feel bad if you were by yourself for the whole train ride.”

Hermione shook her head.

“It’s alright,” she said. “I spent last year with Neville, but I think he’s happy with Dean and Seamus and the others. I’ve got plenty of books to keep me busy though.”

“Nonsense,” Keziah laughed. “You’re coming with me otherwise I start dragging you.”

Hermione’s eyes flitted towards Keziah’s cane sceptically.

“Don’t doubt me, Granger.”

Ten minutes later, Hermione was sitting very awkwardly against the window as Astoria and Ginny chattered excitedly opposite her, unaware of the tension rising in the compartment.

Blaise, who’d been in the middle of complaining about his mother, had stopped speaking as soon as Hermione had arrived.

“Granger?” Theo raised his eyebrows coldly. “Why, exactly, are you here?”

Keziah looked over at Ginny and Astoria to make sure that they weren’t listening.

“Harry and Ron are missing,” she whispered, leaning forward. “I couldn’t find them anywhere so I said Hermione could stay with us so she’s isn’t alone.”

“Are you telling me you don’t have any other friends?” Blaise smirked.

Hermione looked down at her lap in embarrassment. Keziah glared harshly at him.

“Leave her alone,” she snapped. “This isn’t her fault.”

“Are we going to ignore the fact that Harry and Ron are missing?” Daphne spoke up.

Theo and Blaise rolled their eyes at the same time.

“It’s Harry Potter,” said Theo. “He’ll probably show up to Hogwarts on a flying unicorn.”

Blaise snorted and nodded.

“Is it sad that I can’t argue with that?” Keziah asked guiltily and they all burst in laughter, including Hermione.

They all settled in comfortable yet awkward silence for several seconds, while Astoria and Ginny carried on obliviously.

Hermione leaned down to the satchel at her feet, pulling out her Gilderoy Lockhart book when she suddenly stopped and grasped a much slimmer novel. Keziah could instantly tell it was a Muggle book and a familiar one at that.

“Of Mice and Men?” Daphne asked. “I’ve heard of that.”

“You have?” Hermione said, suddenly looking much happier.

“My mum went to see it in the cinema a few years ago,” she said. “She came back crying. I was crying too, but’s that’s because I wanted to see it.”

Hermione laughed.

“Don’t tell me too much,” she said in a jokingly-stern voice. “One of my neighbours said he’s doing it in his school when it starts up. From what he told me, it was interesting, so I got my parents to get me a copy.... and a spare — my housemates are complete animals.”

“You’ve got that right,” Blaise coughed.

“Could I borrow your spare?” Daphne asked shyly, ignoring him.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“I didn’t think you’d enjoy Muggle literature.”

“I was a lonely kid with a big library two streets away,” Daphne said, shrugging.

The compartment fell quiet again as Theo and Blaise whispered amongst themselves and Keziah found herself reading the book over Daphne’s shoulder. At some point, Astoria and Ginny fell asleep, the ginger leaning against the window and the blonde leaning against her.

It was almost peaceful, the stillness as they read. At one point, Keziah realised that Daphne’s mouth moved along with the words, as though she were reading them aloud. Once she’d noticed it, it was impossible not to pay attention.

Hermione and Daphne finished the book at almost the same time and watching their reactions was one of the best things Keziah had ever witnessed. She watched as Hermione roughly placed the book beside her.

“What was that!” she cried, her voice sounding strange after almost two hours of near quiet since Theodore and Blaise had left at one point and still hadn’t come back. “That was horrible.”

“I can’t believe he killed —” Daphne said in devastation. “He didn’t even get to tend to any rabbits...”

It was almost too hard for Keziah to watch how worked her friend was getting over a book. Hermione also looked upset, though for a different reason.

“They didn’t even give her her own name and what was that treatment of Crooks!” she was muttering viciously.

Keziah got up stiffly, her leg protesting vehemently. She grappled with her cane until she had a good grip.

“I think the trolley lady will be coming soon,” she said. “Do you want me to get you guys consolation chocolate?”

“That would be amazing,” Daphne sniffed dramatically.

“Thank you, Keziah,” Hermione added.

“The things I do for friendship,” Keziah said as she stepped out.

Daphne was yelling something as she closed the door but the glass blocked the sound. Keziah smiled slightly and began moving.

At least she would’ve if she didn’t see Theo and Blaise in the compartment right next to her own. Without hesitation, she stuck her head in.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re mapping out quidditch strategies to show Flint,” said Blaise.

“I’m just reading my Herbology book,” Theo chimed in, side-eyeing his friend. “I’m not in the mood to antagonise Flint.”

“Why did you leave?” asked Keziah.

“We got bored,” Blaise shrugged. “You girls were either reading or sleeping and that’s not really my style.”

“Theo’s reading!”

“That’s different,” Blaise said, as though that explained everything.

Keziah rolled her eyes.

“I’m getting sweets,” she said. “You want to come?”

“We’re waiting until Janit comes to us,” said Theo, looking back to his book.

“Janit?”

“That’s the trolley lady’s name,” Theo elaborated. “I asked her last year.”

Keziah raised her eyebrows. It had never occurred to her to ask for the woman’s name. She felt slightly bad all of a sudden. Rigidly, she ducked out of the compartment only to be confronted by Percy Weasley.

He was much ganglier than when she’d last seen him and now he wore horn-rimmed glasses and his hair was much curlier. All in all, it was like staring at a much younger Arthur Weasley.

“Keziah!” Percy said in an increasingly hysterical voice. “Do you know where Ron is? And Harry?”

“I —”

“I’ve looked for them all over the train but I can’t find them!” he said desperately, burying his long fingers into his hair. “If something happened to them, I don’t know what I’d do to myself. He has to be more careful. After all that nonsense last year, Iron has to keep himself safe!”

“Percy!” Keziah interrupted the boy, who looked very close to spiralling. “I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they missed the train and your parents are taking them there by floor or something?”

The colour slowly returned to Percy’s face.

“Yes,” he said. “That — that must be it.”

He still looked shaken though. Keziah instantly wanted to cheer him up.

“I heard you got twelve OWLS this summer,” she said. “That’s really impressive. Has anybody told you that?”

Percy smiled tightly.

“Only my parents, honestly, but thank you for the sentiment, Keziah,” he said. “I’m sorry about your...”

He trailed off, staring awkwardly at her leg.

“It’s alright,” Keziah said. “It’s not your fault. And thank you for your sentiment.”

That brought a genuine smile out of Percy. He snorted quietly and turned back to his compartment.

“I’ll be getting back to my friends,” he said, jabbing his thumbs backwards.

“I need to be going too.”

They awkwardly stepped out of each other’s way and carried on down the hall in opposite directions. When Keziah finally found the trolley lady, there was a trailing queue. She shuffled into the gap between a ridiculously tall Hufflepuff and a comically short Ravenclaw. Ignoring a few disgruntled looks, she stood, her leg bouncing against her cane, until she finally made her way to the trolley.

“Hello, dear, what would you like?” the trolley lady asked sweetly.

“As many chocolate frogs as ten sickles can get?”

“Hungry are you?” the lady smiled as she picked out six colourful packets.

“Not just for me. My friends are going through a post-book breakdown,” Keziah laughed as the trolley lady bagged the chocolates.

“Anything else?”

“A few cauldron cakes and three Billywig Twists,” she finished her order, stomach grumbling at the distant thought of breakfast. Then, her stomach twisted at something else. “Excuse me, ma’am, how was your summer?”

The woman brightened instantly.

“I went to Brazil,” she said with relish. “Can’t you see my tan?”

Keziah smiled uncertainly. The trolley lady was as pale as paper.

“I’m joking,” she said after seeing Keziah’s face. “I had a lovely time in the South Downs with my partner. How about you?”

“Just spent time with friends,” Keziah shrugged. “It was nice talking to you...”

“Janit,” the trolley lady offered, her eyes twinkling. “And it was lovely speaking to you, my dear. I don’t get too many conversations with the young ones these days.”

She held out the crisp paper bag and Keziah set the coins on the trolley in return, waving goodbye as she turned around.

Near the end of the carriage, Keziah stopped to check if everything she’d asked for was accounted for. It was, but there was also a small pouch of cherry-flavoured bursting bonbons in a mesh pouch. Keziah looked back at Janit in confusion but the woman just smiled again.

*

Keziah was quite relieved when Hermione and Daphne had finally eased off their ranting about book endings and the various places John Steinbeck could stick a wand.

It had taken all the chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes and even one of Keziah’s precious Billywig Twists. All of her impulse control had to be poured into not attacking either of her friends as they munched happily on their offerings, now discussing some other book series.

Astoria and Ginny were still asleep.

Just as Keziah was considering rejoining Theo and Blaise so she wasn’t epically third-wheeling, the compartment door slid open. She wasn’t surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing there in all his pointy-nosed glory, Crabbe and Goyle shadowing him like large statues.

“So Potter —” Draco broke off before he could even begin. “Wait. Where’s Potter?”

“Right here,” Keziah said. Daphne and Hermione looked up at the distraction, stiffening when they saw Draco.

“That’s not what I meant,” he scowled. “Where’s your brother?”

“Aw,” Daphne pouted sarcastically. “Are we not good enough for you?”

“Shut up,” Draco hissed, flouncing away with a dramatic swoosh of his cloak.

“I’m going to go make sure he’s not plotting our bloody murders,” said Keziah.

“I don’t think he’s smart enough for that,” Hermione quipped.

Keziah laughed and left the compartment once more. Draco had only gone a few steps so it was simple to catch up to him.

“Hullo Crabbe,” she said, nodding her head towards the other two boys. “Goyle.”

“Hello Keziah,” they responded in unison. Then, Goyle glanced nervously at Draco before leaning into her.

“Keziah,” he said lowly. “Could you — could you help me with my potions homework this year? I don’t geddit when Draco teaches us.”

Draco whipped around instantly.

“What are you talking about, Goyle?” he snapped. “I teach you perfectly fine. It’s just that you’re too stupid to understand.”

“Nuh-uh,” Crabbe interjected. “Goyle is right. You’re too complicated. Keziah?”

She looked back and forth between Crabbe and Goyle’s hopeful faces and Draco’s scowling one.

“I’d be delighted,” she said kindly.

They beamed and Draco wilted.

“Also, Draco, why were you looking for Harry?”

The blonde stopped walking for a moment — a blink and you’d miss it moment — before he carried on walking.

“I made the Quidditch team. I’m Seeker,” he said proudly. “Just wanted to tell your brother to watch his back this year.”

“How did you get the position if try-outs haven’t happened yet?” Keziah frowned.

Draco’s lips curled into a smirk. “My father’s sponsoring the team. He gave everybody Nimbus 2001s and Flint just couldn’t resist giving me Seeker.”

“I see,” said Keziah. “Your father’s money got you the place, not your talent.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco snapped.

“How do you know how good you are if you don’t even try out?” Keziah asked.

“Potter didn’t try out either.”

“Nah,” Keziah said. “He just proved himself multiple times and was chosen by his Head of House. Flint hasn’t even seen you fly.”

She watched in amusement as Draco physically puffed up, like a furious blonde cat.

“Where is this going, Keziah?” he growled.

“Look,” she said gently. “I’m just saying that you can’t coast through life on your father’s money and influence while not earning anything by yourself. You claim that muggle-borns are stealing hard-earned jobs and privileges from purebloods, but isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Draco’s cheeks were turning pinker as Keziah spoke.

“Muggle-borns don’t choose the life they get. Most have no clue about magic until they get their letters. But you have the choice not be a dick to them and everybody else just because you think you have the right to. I know how your father thinks, but that doesn't have to be how you think.”

Keziah watched Draco as he processed her words. It was almost a miracle: Draco Malfoy was stunned.

“How dare you?” he whispered. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

“I dared because I feel sorry for you,” she said honestly. “It must be lonely, being Draco Malfoy. You have nobody to have proper conversations with. It’s either them worshipping the ground that you walk on, or you having to do the same for someone else. Also — I know there’s a good person in there somewhere. You might be the biggest prick on this side of the Atlantic, but you’re not a monster. Not yet.”

She gave him one last kind look and walked away, waving goodbye to Crabbe and Goyle who eagerly returned the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is 'Of Mice and Men' in here simply because my year is studying it and I need to dump my thoughts somewhere?
> 
> *Phineas voice* Yes, yes it is.


	5. Chapter 5

When the train finally reached Hogsmeade Station, Keziah was starving and sleepy. She congratulated herself on staying awake on the train, but now she was ready to drop.

A few miles back, she’d looked out of the window and spotted a faint blue speck in the orange sky, steadily following the train. Keziah had told nobody but she breathed easier at the knowledge that Harry and Ron were alright so far.

Now, however, the purple sky was too dark to see anything as they were shepherded through the station. The silhouette of the village and the mountains behind it were just visible through the settling mist of dusk.

They waved goodbye to Astoria and Ginny, who followed Hagrid’s booming calls to the separate pathway.

Following a rough mud track, the older children found themselves in a clearing with at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited them, golden lanterns hanging from them. Nothing was driving them.

That was until Theo jolted to a stop, eyes widened at where the horses should’ve been.

“What are those?” he stammered.

“What are what?” Hermione asked.

Theo whirled around in a panic.

“Can’t you see them?” he asked. “The creepy horses — pulling the coaches?”

“What horses?” Hermione scoffed. “There isn’t anything there.”

Daphne side-eyed Hermione before putting a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “She’s right, Theo, there isn’t anything there.”

“I’m not going crazy, am I?” Theo mumbled. “Keziah, tell me you see them.”

Keziah felt compelled to lie at the fear and desperation on Theo’s face. But she couldn't.

“I can’t see anything, either,” she sighed.

An older student who was passing by stopped. They wore bright red robes. Gryffindor, Keziah saw.

“What’s wrong with your friend?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Theo snapped when Blaise interrupted him.

“He says the coaches are being pulled by creepy horses.”

The older student frowned sympathetically and bend down so he was eye-to-eye with Theo.

“You’re not going crazy,” he said gently. “Those horses you can see, they’re called thestrals.”

The Gryffindor stopped and looked around at Keziah and the others. He pulled Theo over and began talking lowly. By the end of their conversation, Theo looked better, but he was still pale as paper. The Gryffindor smiled at him and pushed him back to his friends.

“What did he say?” Keziah asked immediately.

“You — you can only see thestrals if you’ve seen death,” Theo whispered shakily.

“But then...” Daphne trailed off with a horrified gasp. “Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Theo. Who...”

“It was my mum,” he said, looking away. “She died the Spring before I came to Hogwarts.”

Hermione looked distraught.

“I’m so sorry, Nott,” she said.

Theo glared at her.

“I don’t need your pity,” he snapped, storming up to a carriage and clambering inside.

Keziah looked over at Blaise and Daphne. They both shrugged sadly and went up to the coach.

“I didn’t mean to,” Hermione said when Keziah turned to her.

Keziah nodded and moved after Blaise and Daphne. They let her get in first since her leg made it extra hard. Then Daphne climbed up and held out her hand for Blaise to come. Before he did, he reached out into the air and ran his hands through it. His eyes widened into galleons.

‘I touched it,’ he mouthed in excited horror as he sat down.

Finally, Hermione got in and shut the door meekly behind her.

The coach rattled along the path and the inside was tense.

“I touched it,” Blaise repeated, shoving his hand in Keziah and Daphne’s faces. “I touched the — what’s it called, Theo?”

“Thestral,” he growled lowly, glaring out of the window. Keziah got up and sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He stiffened but then he relaxed into her.

“Yeah, that!” said Blaise, his voice off after watching the silent exchange. “It was so weird. I could feel the bones, like the actual bones, but there was flesh too.”

“Freaky,” Daphne whispered.

“More like fascinating,” Hermione cut in, her eyes lighting up as they did in class whenever there was a particularly interesting topic. “Imagine how it would be to be one of the few people to see those creatures. It would be so exciting — ”

“Absolutely thrilling!” Theo snarled. “How about you watch your mother kick the bucket and we’ll see just how fascinating and exciting it would be?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hermione defended.

“Then what did you mean, Granger? Maybe this is why your friends ditched you. You’re insufferable.”

He slammed back down into his seat, roughly wrenching away from Keziah and throwing his body against the window.

“Theo,” said Keziah, quietly. “That isn’t fair.”

He ignored her, stubbornly glaring into the darkness.

“What did you have to go and do that for, Granger?” Daphne snapped.

“She didn’t mean it!” said Keziah.

“Does anybody ever?” whispered Blaise harshly.

Keziah glared at all of them. She was just as mad at Hermione as they were, but you couldn’t send the girl into a furious viper pit alone.

Soon, the coach stopped at the edge of the school. Hermione immediately threw open the doors and rushed away, a quiet sob following her. Uncomfortably, they all watched go.

“You shouldn’t have been so rude to her,” said Keziah finally. “She honestly didn’t mean it.”

“Come off it,” Theo snorted. “She’s an obnoxious know-it-all who can’t keep her mouth shut if her life depended on it. Granger needed to be knocked down a few pegs, especially being someone like her.”

“Someone like her?” Keziah repeated dangerously.

Theo was about to respond when Daphne nervously cut him off.

“Let’s not fight right now,” she said anxiously. “Let’s just get inside and enjoy ourselves.”

Theo and Blaise slunk out but Keziah hung back, looking at Daphne.

“I get it,” the blonde sighed. “But try and be nice? For Blaise and me?”

Keziah relented and let Daphne lead her out of the stagecoach. The courtyard was full of students rushing up inside, voices clashing together like a thousand cymbals.

She stopped at the bottom of the steps nervously. Dumbledore had said that the castle would help her, but the uncertainty was still wafting around. The gaps between the stairs were far too large for her to properly get up them without struggling.

“Keep moving, cripple,” somebody snarled, shoving her roughly.

“Watch your mouth,” Daphne shouted back at the unknown student, who’d melted into the crowd, their voice carried off in the throng. “Sorry about that.”

Keziah shook her head. The slur had set warm blood rushing through her veins, her anger firing up. Before her confidence fell, she moved onto the stairs properly.

Immediately the marble began moving, like a slow escalator. There were several indignant yelps as students steadied themselves while the ground beneath their feet began moving. Some people even scowled at Keziah but quickly turned away at Daphne’s glower.

The Entrance Hall was as magnificent as always, the welcome scent of feathers, grass and pure magic filling their nostrils.

“It’s so crazy how I wasn’t even sure if mum would let me see my acceptance letter,” Daphne said softly. “And now I’m coming back for a second year.”

Keziah nodded numbly. It was crazy how less than two years ago, the name ‘Potter’ had been nothing more than letters on a page. She held back the tears prickling at the edges of her eyes.

As she entered the Great Hall, conversation dimmed all at once before erupting again in multitude. A few people waved from their seats and the Weasley twins even gave her an exaggerated salute.

“So,” said Pansy Parkinson as Daphne and Keziah got into their seats, across from Theo and Blaise. “How was everybody’s summer?”

Crabbe opened his mouth to speak but Pansy steamrollered on.

“I went to Paris, you know,” she said smugly. “My mother was dying to see the Louvre again so we went on a summer trip. I got to see the Eiffel Tower and the Champs Elysees and —”

Keziah raised two very exasperated eyebrows at Millicent Bulstrode and Draco, as though to ask ‘How in Merlin’s name can you endure this?’

Millicent shrugged and shook her head fondly.

The only Slytherin second-year who was truly listening to Pansy seemed to be Lily Moon. Her head was propped up on her elbows and her eyes were wide in fascination.

Blaise watched her for a few seconds before mimicking her, exaggeratedly flickering his eyelashes. Keziah and the others snorted before instantly sobering up when Pansy stopped her story to glare at them.

“Sorry, Pans,” said Draco, desperately keeping a straight face. “Do go on.”

Pansy was silent for a few more seconds before she carried on, her eyes still narrowed. “It was the craziest thing ever —”

She cut herself off as the doors burst open with the arrival of the first years. The table sighed in relief all at once, much to Pansy’s chagrin.

It was quite strange, watching McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on the familiar wooden stool, knowing that it had been them standing in the aisle exactly a year ago.

The rip in the hat opened and it began to sing. Daphne’s eyebrows creased in confusion.

“That isn’t what it sang last year,” she whispered.

“The song changes every year,” Theo said. “Apparently, it spends all year coming up with a new song every year. I feel sort of sad for it.”

Keziah laughed but was quickly silenced by a dirty look from the newest prefect. She rolled her eyes and turned her head back to the front.

She clapped along with everybody else when the Sorting Hat finished and the first child was called up.

“Aberdeen, Lola!”

Blaise leaned over the table, eyeing the girl. “Five sickles that she’s a Ravenclaw. You guys take your pick.”

“Gryffindor,” said Daphne.

“Slytherin,” Theo called.

“Then I get Hufflepuff,” Keziah shrugged.

Anticipation swelled as the Great Hall waited for the first house to be announced. Finally, the hat cleared its throat — or whatever it had in replacement of a throat.

“Gryffindor!” it shouted.

Daphne grinned, holding out her hand. Blaise reluctantly dropped the silver coins into her awaiting palm.

“Yeah, yeah you won,” he snapped, smiling fondly.

As McGonagall was about to announce the next child, the doors suddenly creaked open. It wasn’t too loud but the room was quiet enough that most people heard it.

Harry and Ron slipped into the room, looking like they were trying very hard not to be seen. Keziah nearly laughed.

“What an entrance,” Theo muttered.

“See,” Daphne smiled. “They’re fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“I was never worried,” Keziah murmured. “But I am now. Do you see how Snape’s looking at them?”

The greasy-haired potions professor had been standing at the back of the hall, talking lowly to Filch and Keziah had seen his expression shift dangerously when the two boys entered.

Blaise cackled. “They’re in for it now. What do you think, Theo? One month’s detention? Total expulsion?”

“I like your thinking,” Theo said, in equal amusement. “However, I doubt it’s up to Snape to decide their punishment. That’s McGonagall’s call.”

Their interest in the sorting completely abandoned, Keziah and the others watched as Snape loomed over Harry and Ron and took them out of the hall.

“Can somebody call the coroner because those two are dead,” Pansy quipped.

“Good for them,” Millicent said. “Those Gryffindors think they’re so big.”

“Pride often comes before the fall,” Lily Moon added sagely. “I sense they have a long trip ahead of them.”

“Remind me to get you a crystal ball for your birthday, Lily,” Theo laughed.

“That would be wonderful. By the way, my birthday’s on the sixteenth of November.”

“Erm,” Theo mumbled. “I was joking.”

“So was I,” Lily replied.

They turned their heads back to the sorting just in time.

“Greengrass, Astoria,” McGonagall called.

Daphne sat up straight, watching Astoria’s bright blonde head move through the group until she emerged onto the stool. She grinned nervously as the hat slipped over her eyes.

There was dead quiet as the seconds stretched on.

“What is taking so long?” Daphne whispered anxiously.

“Could be hat stall,” Blaise said. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”

He smiled at her softly and Keziah gagged.

“Get a room please,” she hissed.

Blaise subtly sent her the finger, still smiling.

She stuck her tongue out back at him.

“Shut up!” Daphne snapped, eyes fixed on her little sister.

“Thirty more seconds until it’s a hat stall,” somebody whispered.

Ten seconds passed, then twenty. A few seconds until the time was up, Keziah thought.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat barked out, shattering the silence.

Daphne was on her feet in an instant and Keziah was directly behind her, clapping as hard as they could while Astoria tottered to their table.

“Welcome to Slytherin,” Draco said loftily and Astoria pulled a face.

“If this is your welcoming committee, I want a refund,” she said, sitting down next to Daphne.

“I like you, kid,” said Millicent, offering Astoria a high-five.

The little girl beamed, slapping Millicent’s palm so hard that the elder girl winced, sending a murmur of snickers around the table.

Keziah looked over at Draco, who was sulking in his seat. She leaned around Daphne to poke him in the arm.

“Insulted by an eleven-year-old,” she said. “How do you feel?”

He glared at her, unimpressed. “I’m not dignifying you with an answer.”

“So you’re offended?” she asked sweetly.

He opened his mouth defensively before remembering his previous words and shutting it.

Now that Astoria had been sorted, Keziah was uninterested in the sorting. Ginny wouldn’t be called up until the very end, so it wasn’t like there was any need to pay attention. Sure, she could try and see the newest stock of Slytherins, but she had six more years to become acquainted.

Unless, of course, the Great Ethereal Force who dropped her here changed their Great Ethereal mind. But Keziah had a funny feeling that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

There was a sudden burst of whispers that erupted amongst the students. A quick scan of the hall showed that even the other houses were muttering. One of the third-years said something to Pansy and she gasped.

“Guess what I just heard?” she said conspiratorially.

“You’ll tell us anyway, right?” Daphne asked tiredly.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to tell you guys or not?”

“I’m sorry,” Daphne smirked. “Please — do go on.”

“Apparently, Potter and Weasley were late because they flew a car here! Some kid heard Snape talking to Filch and they were spotted by a load of Muggles,” she said gleefully. “They’re finished.”

“Finished?” Keziah laughed. “Please. Snape can’t expel people and McGonagall and Dumbledore love Harry. He’d have to murder for Dumbledore to even consider it.”

The Slytherins stopped to consider Keziah’s words and she watched as their hope for Harry’s punishment vanished.

“Favouritism sucks,” said Theo bitterly.

“May I remind you that Snape is the poster professor for favouritism. Plus, I’m pretty sure his hate for Harry balances out whatever Dumbledore has for him,” said Daphne.

“I hate it when you make sense,” Blaise sighed.

“Weasley, Ginevra!” McGonagall said firmly.

Keziah’s head snapped towards the front as she watched Ginny’s flaming red hair disappear under the Sorting Hat. She noticed Astoria was also staring at the littlest Weasley with such intensity.

The other people of her house still weren’t paying attention, spare from a single nasty insult against the family. Keziah quickly shot a glare in that direction before staring up at the tiny stool.

She didn’t know why she was focusing so hard, since she knew that Ginny would end up in Gryffindor and Keziah was quite sure that Ginny’s brothers were less bothered.

“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat bellowed to nobody’s surprise.

The shocking part came in when Snape moved silently into the room, approached McGonagall and whispered something to her. Her eyes widened a fraction and her lips thinned. She told Dumbledore something and the Potions and Transfiguration professors left together.

Once again, the hall burst into speech and rumours.

“Did you see her?” Draco hissed triumphantly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that mad. No amount of favouritism will save those two.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Keziah said, smirking. “Look. Food’s here.”

The table had instantly been filled up with food, the wood miraculously not creaking under the weight. There was a sudden quiet as the hall was taken up by sounds of scraping cutlery and appreciative chewing.

*

When Keziah stumbled into the common room, she was quite full and ready to sleep. She nodded a greeting to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. To the ordinary eye, it might’ve looked like he ignored her but Keziah saw the old wizard’s lips twitch into what could’ve been a smile.

Trying her best not to topple over, she made a beeline for the girl’s dormitory, followed by Pansy, Millicent, Lily and an energetic Daphne.

Before she could flop onto her nice warm bed like a regular human being at ten o’clock in the evening, Daphne stopped her.

“Hold on,” she said. “You can’t go to bed yet.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” Keziah yawned.

“Because the boys are coming over,” said Daphne brightly. “For a sort of start-of-term sleepover.”

“Is that even allowed?” asked Millicent.

“It isn’t _not_ allowed,” said Daphne.

“Works for me,” Pansy grinned, rubbing her hands appreciatively.

“I suppose it would be interesting to see how the males behave in our habitat,” Lily murmured to herself.

The others stared at her. Lily didn’t notice. Keziah felt a small breath of relief that, although Lily looked different, she was as kooky as ever.

“I’m being outvoted here, aren’t I?” Keziah groaned.

“Yep.”

“That about sums it up.”

“You know it.”

Keziah sighed, sinking onto one of the beanbag chairs. “Fine.”

Daphne clapped excitedly. At that moment, a knock sounded.

“It’s the sacrifices,” called Theo’s muffled voice. “We bring butterbeer and sweets in the plea that you don’t feed us to the mermaids in some sort of weird lady ritual.”

“You could’ve just come it,” said Daphne, opening the doors and taking the snacks. “No need for a soliloquy.”

“It was Draco’s idea but he’s too much of a coward to say it,” volunteered Blaise.

“Untrue!” Draco protested.

“Sure,” Millicent cackled.

“Stop fighting guys!” Daphne cut in. “We’re second-years now! We need to be more mature. Now let’s get this thing started!”

An hour or two later, when the torches had dimmed and there were noises downstairs from the house-elves, Keziah was quite sure that she had descended into a different plane of reality.

The butterbeer bottles had finished some time ago and rolled under somebody’s bed. Millicent had fallen asleep and was curled up into Lily’s side. Blaise was still trying to scrape out the taste of rotten eggs and vomit. Draco and Pansy were looking equal parts horrified and ecstatic as they sat in each other’s clothes.

Keziah rubbed her eyes desperately as she watched the game of Never Have I Ever with sleepy amusement. From somewhere, there was a distant gong. Keziah waited for more but nothing followed. It took a few minutes before she recognised why.

“G-guys,” she said. “I think it’s one.”

The others turned to her in surprise.

“Shit,” Theo murmured. “We’d better get to bed. If we have Snape first, we’re dead ten times over.”

The others also looked terrified at the statement.

“I’m not walking to the boys’ dorms like this,” Draco muttered.

“It’s too dark to see anything anyway,” Daphne said. “Just sleep here and go back in the morning. We’re twelve, what are the others going to say?”

“That sounds quite logical,” Lily said.

“But where would we sleep?” asked Goyle.

“One of the boys can take my bed. I’ll stay down here with Millie,” Lily volunteered kindly. Goyle smiled shyly and Draco gagged.

In the end, the blankets were sent down to the boys so they could sleep on the floor. Except for Draco and Blaise, who’d instantly claimed Lily and Millicent’s abandoned beds. Theo stared at the blankets with a crinkled nose.

“You know,” he said. “I think I might just go back to our room.”

“Buzzkill,” Daphne groaned, getting up from her bed. “How about I room with Keziah tonight. Is that okay?”

Keziah nodded sleepily, making room for the other girl. Daphne slumped down next to her, waving for Theo to get in. He stood there for another second, shrugged and got in. Crabbe and Goyle were satisfied though, the latter sneaking closer and closer to Lily.

“Well,” Daphne said quietly, rolling over to face Keziah. “Goodnight then. Hopefully, we’re not dead tomorrow.”

Keziah smiled softly. “Yeah.”

Sleep came almost immediately.

There was a lake this time, shielded by a ring of willows swaying in a breeze that didn’t exist. As always, She was there, sitting cross-legged by the edge of the water.

“Nice to see you again,” said Keziah, glaring at the old lady.

“I wish I could say the same,” the lady said sternly. “But, I don’t like lying.”

“There is such a thing as being nice to the _child_ you practically kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped is such a strong word,” the lady pouted. “I love it.”

“You’re impossible,” Keziah snapped. “What do want this year?”

The old lady softened, her milky eyes growing wider.

“I just want you to be safe, child,” She said. “You need to be kept safe.”

“Why,” Keziah scoffed. “Because you have a purpose for me?”

The woman nodded. “I’m glad you understand. If you don’t stop putting yourself in danger, I’m taking away your knowledge of the future. You can be as blind as your brother.”

Keziah felt her heart freeze, a common occurrence in the woman’s presence.

“You can’t do that.”

“Can’t I?”

Keziah shot up, suddenly awake. Her heart wasn’t frozen anymore. Instead, it was racing at a million miles an hour and she could see it jumping right out of her chest. It didn’t help that she was uncomfortably warm.

Daphne mumbled incoherently beside her. Her face was pressed into the pillow and her pale arm was thrown out against Keziah’s waist.

Suddenly, she felt hot for a very different reason. Shaking her head, the panic from her dream seeping into reality, Keziah gently removed Daphne’s arm away and curled away from her, trying to sleep again.

The plan failed instantly as Daphne shifted, rolling into her as her sleeping form curled up to the only heat source.

And Keziah couldn’t find it in herself to move this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I — I just can't with these kids.


	6. Chapter 6

As Keziah had sleepily predicted, the next morning was chaotic.

People were rushing in and out of the dorm room, flying socks and sweets packets being thrown around like missiles. There was barely enough time to speak as the Slytherin second-years tried to make it on time for breakfast.

By the time they all got to the Great hall, subconsciously agreeing to go in all together, they were only mildly late.

The table was almost full, meaning they had to squeeze in at the end, shooing away a trio of terrified first-years. Since it was the first breakfast of the year and timetables were being handed out, everybody was sitting at their house tables, shoving toast into their mouths and chattering excitedly about the new year.

"I'm still finding glitter everywhere," Draco moaned, dusting his hands as he shot Pansy a dirty look. The girl smiled back sweetly.

"Oh stop complaining, Draco," snapped Daphne. "You look perfectly fine. At least you got to gel up your hair. I haven't even seen my hairbrush!"

"Never again," said Millicent, falling asleep into her pancakes.

"I warned you lot," said Keziah smugly, interrupted by a heavy yawn.

"Shut up," Theo growled. "Like you weren't being stupid along with us."

"I'm fine," Blaise preened and, infuriatingly, he was. He didn't look tired in the slightest, happily digging into his cereal amongst the misery.

There was a chorus of groans as Lily attempted to chuck porridge at his head. Keziah only half-heartedly tried to stop her.

Crabbe and Goyle also looked fine, but Keziah had never seen them look any different, so that alluded nothing.

"How are you two?" she asked, jabbing her thick arms. "Suffering like us, or being a dick like Blaise."

The boys' eyes widened in surprise at her question.

"Well," said Crabbe. "I am tired, very tired. Also, I'd like some bacon but there's none left down here."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Then just go ask for more," he said.

"You can do that?" Crabbe grinned and jumped from his seat. Draco watched him leave, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, muttering sternly under his breath.

"What about you, Goyle?"

"Erm," the large boy thought. It looked hard. "I went to America for the summer. It was fun. I got to see Ill-ver-moany."

"It's called Ilvermorny," said Draco tiredly. "And she asked if you were tired, Goyle."

"Oh — not really. Could I tell you about Ill-ver-moany?"

"Sure," Draco sighed.

Daphne leaned in at the mention of the American wizarding school.

"I know about that," she said. "Apparently Americans hate Muggles."

"Why wouldn't they?" Theo snorted.

Keziah scowled at him but she couldn't say anything in response, since Blaise had chimed in.

"I might've gone there," he said. "My dad lives in Massachusetts, you know. But Mother doesn't even want to risk me meeting him, so Hogwarts it was. He was her only husband that didn't die. I wonder why."

There was an awkward silence that followed. Nobody wanted to say anything but also had everything to say. They were saved by the arrival of the post. A cacophony of hoots and twitters signalled the descent of the owls, scrolls tied to their talons or clamped tightly in their beaks.

"There's Bizbee," said Draco proudly, pointing to a rather large eagle owl struggling under the weight of the packaging it was holding. "Must be my care-package, I expect."

"I call the Whizzbees," said Pansy as the owl landed, her hands already untying the artful knot. "Who wants what?"

"Chocolate Frogs!"

"Mrs Malfoy's butterbeer lollies!"

"Please, everybody knows she doesn't cook. It's her elves."

"Do I get a say about my sweets?" asked Draco.

"No!" 

Blaise passed down a note while biting into a Cauldron Cake, "Here's a letter for you."

It was incredibly amusing watching Draco fume as he scanned his parents note, muttering fiercely under his breath.

That was when the hall exploded. 

Figuratively, of course, but it might've been true, considering the volume. After the ringing in her ears stopped, the words Keziah heard felt very familiar.

"... STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET A HOLD OF YOU..."

Most of the hall was craning their necks to see who'd gotten such a grim surprise, but Keziah knew immediately who to look for. Ron had sunk so low in his seat that only his hair was visible, bright red as ever. Harry sat beside him, his face desperately calm as he looked anywhere except the fiery letter.

Most of the Slytherin table had broken into open grins, enjoying the young Gryffindor's humiliation. Draco looked as though Christmas had come early.

Keziah's eyes slid down the table to Ginny, who was sitting next to a tiny, mousy-haired boy. The poor girl looked almost as embarrassed as Harry and Ron, her head buried in her robes while the boy awkwardly patted her head.

"WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"

There was a loud crinkling noise as the Howler screwed itself up into the smallest ball possible and set on fire, the ashes drifting into a milk jug. 

The silence settled like dust over the stunned Hall, as they all waited to see the boys' reactions. Then somebody laughed and the babble broke out again.

"I almost feel sorry for them," Theo smirked, going back to his breakfast.

"That's such an awful punishment," Daphne said, still staring at the Gryffindor table. "Imagine how horrible they must be feeling?"

"I think that's the point," said Blaise leisurely.

Daphne pushed his arm, scowling gently, while Keziah and Theo exchanged looks.

"That's not what I meant Blaise," she said. 

Snape had started handing out timetables by now, brushing off some desperate sixth-year while he handed out their sheets.

"Double Charms, History of Magic and Double Transfiguration after lunch.," Theo read. "Are they trying to kill us?"

"It's not too bad," Daphne mused, squinting at her sheet. "If you exclude Binns."

"At least we don't have Lockhart yet," sneered Blaise, looking up at the staff table in disgust.

"You shouldn't judge him until he teaches us," Pansy sighed dreamily. 

Keziah and Draco made equal noises of disgust.

"Lockhart's nothing more than a jumble of a stupid smile, stupid charisma and stupidly great hair," muttered Keziah.

"Exactly," Pansy giggled.

"You're mad, Pans," Millicent groaned, sticking her timetable onto one of her notebooks.

Pansy huffed, flipping her hair, much to the amusement of the other second-year Slytherins.

*

"This is the reason why we don't do anything fun," Keziah groaned, her head flat on the desk while Professor Flitwick lectured. She thanked God herself that he was only talking, so the most effort she'd put in was scribbling down notes.

"I didn't think we'd stay up that late," huffed Daphne. "Can you get over it?"

"Never."

One of the boys in front of them turned around. Keziah knew him by sight but had never actually talked to the curly-haired beanstalk.

"Do you two mind?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry," Daphne rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean to interrupt your precious studying time."

The boy's partner, much shorter, snorted and also turned around.

"I don't think Ollie's studied since the first week of last September," he said. 

"Exactly," Ollie affirmed. "I'm saying to shut up so Flitwick doesn't come here and I don't get in trouble."

"In that case," Keziah smirked, pretending to tip an imaginary hat. "We'd be happy to oblige."

"What are you even doing?" asked Daphne. "I thought Ravenclaws lived to learn."

"I am learning," said Ollie, holding up a thick book. It was Stephen King's 'IT.'

Keziah laughed, finally raising her head off the desk.

"Isn't that a bit too much for a twelve-year-old?" she asked.

Ollie snorted, as well as his friend.

"Ollie loves Stephen King," he explained. "Won't bloody shut up about him. He runs around the Common Room trying to make everybody read his books."

"If you don't like it so much, you should have told me, Steph," Ollie pouted.

"I never said I didn't," Steph smiled. "But I will say that you lot should shut up. Ollie and you two might not care about studies but my Mam will kill me if I'm not top five again."

"Sorry," said Daphne, sounding a fraction more sincere as the Ravenclaws swivelled back to face the front.

She glanced at Keziah, eyebrows raised in appreciation. 

"Who knew Ravenclaws weren't total nerds," she whispered.

"I did," Keziah grinned.

Daphne elbowed Keziah. It was pure luck that Flitwick hadn't noticed them yet, too involved with his lecture about tickling charms and the responsibility that came with using them.

*

Keziah's brain was officially dead by the time she crept out of Charms, rubbing her temples. After a month of doing nothing, her head hurt. Daphne and Blaise heartily agreed although Theo was already reading through his notes, muttering under his breath.

"Practising so soon?" Keziah asked, snatching the page to squint at her friend's spidery writing. "Holy shit, these notes are good. Could I borrow these?"

Theo smiled sardonically 

"Father said he wants me to get better grades this year," he explained. "Apparently being lower than a second-grade Malfoy is a fail in his book."

"I wouldn't say it's a fail..." Daphne trailed off.

"It's just a bit sad," Blaise joked, "being lower than that half-witted weasel."

Theo laughed bitterly.

"It's funny until you realise my father is serious," he snapped, taking the paper from Keziah and looking back at them. The others were silent.

"Theo," began Keziah. 

"Are you okay?" asked Blaise.

Theo stopped in his tracks and turned around, eyes narrowed.

"Of course, I'm fine," he said briskly. "Why wouldn't I be fine? Let's get to Professor Binns. If we're late, he's not going to repeat anything."

Keziah was sure that Theo was upset, but she also knew that there was no way in hell her friend would admit that. He was always stoic and that's what made him Theo. On the other hand, it meant that they could never tell how he felt unless he told them. 

She sighed, hanging her head as they walked up to History of Magic.

As usual, Professor Binns was hovering by the blackboard, which had an ancient stick of chalk scratching something onto it. Keziah spotted Lily Moon in the corner, tongue stuck out in concentration, her wand following the chalk. Binns took no notice.

Keziah smiled.

"Back of the class?" she asked Blaise, who nodded. It was their tradition. Normally, Theo and Daphne joined them but Theo had already bagged a seat near the front and Daphne followed, talking to him gently.

As they settled into their chairs, Blaise grabbed a long, green quill from his satchel.

"Look what my mum's boyfriend got me," he said smugly.

"A quill," Keziah said in deadpan.

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"A quick-quotes quill," he elaborated. "It records what's being said. I just need Binns to lick it."

"Stick it in his mouth," shrugged Keziah. "I doubt he'd notice or care."

"Do you really think that would work?" 

"I dunno."

Keziah watched in amusement as Blaise snuck down the aisle until he was near Professor Binns, who still hadn't looked up. He seemed to be very invested in the speck of mould. Quick as a flash, the quill was in and out of the ghost's mouth. 

"What was that?" he said slowly, looking up and tossing his head side to side.

However, there was nothing to see. Blaise had dashed back to his seat and pressed the quill to his parchment. Amazingly, Binns's words were scribbled onto the paper.

"It actually worked!" Keziah gasped. "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I," said Blaise, whistling lowly.

Thanks to the quill, Keziah found no need to listen to Binns. She could just copy whatever she needed from Blaise's sheet later. Instead, she got out one of Lockhart's books. It was one about banshees and seemed to contain the least bullshit. Since she hadn't even touched the waste of paper and ink all summer, today seemed like a good time to start.

Keziah didn't even get past the first chapter before throwing the book onto the floor. It fell with a hard thump that sent dust spiralling through the class. 

"I heard literature could make you really invested but this is a bit much," said Blaise.

Keziah stuck her tongue out as she retrieved the ridiculous novel.

"It's not my fault Lockhart can't stop talking about himself for five bloody minutes to advance the plot," she snapped. "He's definitely a fraud. It's mad that anybody would buy into this nonsense."

"At least we'll have good kindling next winter," Blaise suggested. 

Keziah laughed. 

*

"What was so funny that you lot couldn't stop bloody laughing the entire lesson?" Daphne asked on the way to lunch. "It was like being in the circus."

"I'm pretty sure the people in the circus are more civilised," Theo drawled, smiling grudgingly when Blaise ruffled his hair.

"Like you didn't wish you were with us," he said. "Plus there wasn't even a need to sit at the front."

"What do you mean?" asked Daphne.

"Well," Blaise said cheekily. "I would tell you but... since you lot abandoned me and Keziah to sit at the front..."

"You bastard," Theo growled. "Tell us."

Blaise still shook his head, the smirk on his face growing wider as Theo and Daphne got more frustrated.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Keziah exclaimed. "He got a Quick-Quotes quill from home that records everything Binns says. Now we don't have to listen to his boring lessons."

"Keziah!" Blaise whined. "I was going to tell them eventually."

"Well now I've done your job sooner," she said, patting him on the shoulder as they moved into the Great Hall.

It was much calmer than during breakfast, since most of the students were eating outside in the sun, now that the clouds had parted. The house tables were a plethora of colours since nobody was really sitting at their assigned house tables. 

As soon as Keziah sat down, the two Ravenclaw boys from Charms swooped down on her.

"Hey, Keziah — do you have a minute?" asked Steph.

Before she could respond, they'd both settled down on the bench. Ollie spotted a piece of garlic bread and plucked it off the platter just as Crabbe was about to reach for it. She gave the boy one of hers as compensation.

"So guys, what's up?"

"Do you have notes?" Ollie asked, soundly mildly ashamed. "From Charms?"

"Didn't you make notes?" Daphne snorted, swivelling to face Steph.

"He did," replied Ollie.

"But apparently my handwriting isn't good enough for him," Steph finished, dramatically wiping away a tear.

"They're literally scribbles!" Ollie protested. "Excuse me if I don't understand your hieroglyphics."

"They're perfectly legib —"

"Ladies," Theo cut in dryly. "If you're finished your little squabble..."

Ollie and Steph both stopped talking at the same time, flushing.

"And you are?" Steph asked.

"Theodore Nott. Why don't you just ask Professor Flitwick for an overview of the lesson?" he said.

"Are you serious?" Ollie snorted. "He's my Head of House. I can't go up to him and ask for help." He made his voice resembled Flitwick's high-pitched squeak. "You have to pay attention to my lessons, Mr River, otherwise you're not going to get very far."

"It's not like he's wrong, Ollie," said Steph uneasily, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well it's not my fault I can't concentrate," Ollie snapped.

"You are the one reading Stephen King in lessons," Keziah smirked.

"Besides the point," Ollie huffed.

Theo coughed again, halting the conversation.

"How about I lend you two my notes?" he asked. "Because as much as I enjoy you interrupting my lunch, I'd be glad to get back to it."

"Theo, don't be rude," Blaise chided. 

He'd kept quiet through the conversation, preferring to just eat his lunch.

"Nonono, it's cool," Ollie said quickly. "Thank you for the offer, Nott. Could you get Keziah to give it to me at dinner? Or tomorrow's breakfast? C'mon, Steph, let's get out of their hair."

Steph's eyes were narrowed at Theo as he let Ollie lead him away.

"They were interesting," Blaise said carefully. "How do you know them?"

"They were sitting in front of us in Charms," Daphne said quickly before changing the subject.

*

After they finished eating, the children moved into the courtyard to enjoy the sun. Theo complained vehemently as they walked over, protesting that the square would be far too crowded and noisy to let him concentrate.

"Oh, hush, Theo," Daphne said fondly. "You need some sun. If you stay indoors any longer, you'll be looking more vampire than human."

"Haha," he replied, deadpan.

Theo was technically right, not that any of the others would admit it. The courtyard was filled with students standing around in their little groups. Keziah spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione near the entrance and made a beeline towards them.

"Hullo," she said. "How's the day gone?"

"You mean except being utterly humiliated this morning?" Ron groaned.

"Come now, Weasley," said Blaise, joining the conversation. "Don't pretend it wasn't amusing."

"Maybe for you," Ron grumbled.

"I still say you deserved it," Hermione sniffed from where she sat, a Lockhart book open across her lap.

"Doesn't mean they deserved to be screamed at in front of everyone," Daphne said.

Hermione looked like she was about to respond but instead, she bit her tongue and went back to her book.

Suddenly, Theo coughed.

"Potter," he asked, pointing to a small boy amongst the crowd. "Who's your shadow?"

The entire group turned to stare at the boy in unison. It was Colin Creevey, staring at Harry as though utterly transfixed. He was holding a muggle camera and as soon as he realised they were all watching him, he turned scarlet.

"All right, Harry?" he stammered, taking a shy step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor too —"

"Who would've guessed?" Theo muttered, smirking.

Keziah elbowed him. 

"Be nice," she hissed. He nodded with a grimace.

"Could I have a picture?" Colin asked.

"A picture," Harry repeated in surprise.

"So I can prove I've met you," Colin explained eagerly, stepping even closer. "I know all about you."

The boy paused and turned to Keziah, eyes raking her cane.

"I know about you too," he said, sounding even more excited, if that was humanly possible. "Some kids told me about how last year you helped save the school. Was it scary, facing that dog?"

"A bit, but I had too," Keziah shrugged.

"Don't be modest," said Daphne. "Colin, don't listen to her. She was awesome last year. She was the only one who realised Quirrel was evil and she even smuggled a dragon out of here."

"Actually that was us," Ron laughed.

Colin looked like he was about to burst from awe.

"And this one here," Theo said uncomfortable, pointing at Hermione, "is one of the smartest witches you'll ever meet."

Hermione looked up in surprise at her name being mentioned.

"What about you guys?" Colin asked, pointing at Daphne, Blaise and Theo. "What did you do?"

Blaise cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry, dude," he said. "No epic stories here."

Colin didn't seem phased.

"That's okay," he said. "You can help me take the photo. A boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film just right, the pictures will move! Can you believe it?" He took a great deep shuddering breath. "It's so brilliant here, in ways I couldn't even imagine before I got my letter. My dad's a milkman see, and he couldn't believe it either. I'm sending him loads of pictures so he can see how cool Hogwarts is too."

Daphne suddenly squealed.

"You are just adorable!" she said. "Of course we'll help you take a photo. Won't we, boys?"

Blaise and Theo looked up. They looked mildly reluctant until they caught sight of Daphne's face.

"Yep." 

"Definitely!"

Colin bounced on his feet and clapped his hands excitedly.

"So could I stand in the middle with all of you around me?" he asked imploringly. "You three could join too if you like? And then... you could all sign it? Especially Harry and Keziah?"

Keziah was about to agree when a loud scathing voice echoed around the courtyard. 

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

Draco swaggered through the crowd, tailed by Crabbe and Goyle as usual.

"Don't you have anything better to do than bully people, Draco?" Keziah sighed. "Maybe you'll actually find friends if you weren't so mean to people."

The blonde boy sneered at her.

"Stay out of this."

"Why should we?" Blaise asked. "We were going to help him with the pictures."

Draco's jaw pulsed as he thought of an answer. All of a sudden, he spun around to address the courtyard.

"Everybody queue up!" he roared. "Potter's giving out signed photos."

"No, I'm not," Harry growled. "Shut up, Malfoy!"

"Why are you so bothered, Draco?" Keziah asked slyly. "Are you looking for one? Now all you had to was ask; you didn't need to do all this."

"Yeah," said Blaise slowly, catching on. "Want to hide it under your pillow? Merlin knows you don't already talk about him enough."

By now, half of the courtyard was listening in on the exchange, which meant Blaise and Keziah's jeers received a round of cackles and whispers. Draco went as red as Harry.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he snarled.

"That's not a no," Theo said from the side.

"Look," Daphne sighed. "Just do us all a favour, Draco, and go away. Nobody finds you funny, and honestly, you're pathetic. Now please leave us alone before I hex you, detention or not."

Still flushed, Draco took a deep breath. For a second, Keziah thought he was going to start crying or shouting, but then he turned on his heel and pushed his way out of the courtyard amongst the nasty whispers. Crabbe and Goyle frowned at each other before quickly catching up with him but Draco shoved them off.

There was an onset of silence.

"That was..." said Colin, "SO COOL! The way you stood up to him! I need you guys in my photo."

Daphne, Blaise and Theo tried to protest but Colin wouldn't hear of it. In the end, they got a Hufflepuff to take the picture, while they all crowded around Colin, who looked like he was in heaven. The boy asked for Harry and Keziah to be either side of him, which they obliged. 

Keziah even slung her arm around his shoulder, while Harry just stood stiffly. Ron and Blaise were both balanced on their respective friends' heads since they were tallest. Daphne and Hermione were kneeling on the floor and Theo sat in the middle, cross-legged, giving the most awkward thumbs-up Keziah had ever seen.

The composure lasted for about three seconds before Blaise's elbow slipped and Hermione sneezed and they were all laughing and messing around while the camera shutter clicked and snapped.

After a few minutes, the Hufflepuff handed back the camera.

"I took quite a few pictures," he said. "Just pick your favourites."

They all thanked him as he went back to his own friends.

"So, Colin," asked Daphne, "Do you think these photos will be to your satisfaction?"

"Definitely," he said breathlessly.

"Make sure we get copies," Blaise winked.

Colin nodded eagerly and waved goodbye before zooming off, perhaps to fanboy with his fellow first-years.

"That was one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life," Harry moaned as soon as Colin was out of earshot. "I hated every minute of it."

"Are you kidding me?" Ron laughed. "That was brilliant!"

"It was quite fun," Hermione smiled. "Also, thank you, guys."

Keziah and the other Slytherins all looked at her in surprise.

"What did we do?" Keziah asked.

"You drove off Malfoy before he could make too much of a scene," she said.

"Although, next time, could you not do it at my expense?" Harry asked.

"Sorry Potter," Blaise said, snickering. 

Hermione looked a bit nervous, as though she wanted to say something else but seemed too scared to say it.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Ron said, nudging her.

"Theo, I want to apologise!" she blurted loudly. At the confused stares of students nearby, she smiled awkwardly and collected herself. "It wasn't right of me, yesterday, to be so... so obtuse about the — you know..."

"The thestrals," said Theo shortly.

"Those," she said. "I was being insensitive, and I understand if you're still angry at me."

"I —" Theo began sharply. Keziah subtly flicked the back of his head and glared at him. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry too, Granger. My behaviour last night wasn't acceptable. I know you didn't mean what you said and my reaction was over the top.

"And while I don't think we'd be friends, I'm willing to respect you if you respect me."

He held out his hand and Hermione stared at it. The seconds stretched on and just as Theo was about to withdraw the gesture, she shook his hand and nodded.

The air was awkward as they let go, which made it all the better that the bell wrang the next minute.

*

Draco wasn't in Transfiguration. They all noticed as soon as they stepped into the classroom and his white-blonde hair wasn't visible. This was made all the more strange when Crabbe and Goyle arrived to class without him. 

Nobody pointed out his absence though until Professor McGonagall read his name out on the register.

"Where is Mister Malfoy?" she asked, staring at the students from over her square glasses.

"Umm," Keziah mumbled. "We saw him in the courtyard at lunch but we haven't seen him since."

"Do you think he might be sick?" 

"He wasn't sick this morning," said Pansy.

McGonagall glanced at the clock with pinched brows.

"We can't wait any longer," she said finally. "If he doesn't turn up, make sure to tell Mr Malfoy that he had a half-hour detention with me tomorrow."

McGonagall's glare silenced the whispers that erupted with her announcement.

Draco didn't reappear for the entire double-period. Even as she tried to transfigure her beetle into a button, Keziah kept one eye on the door, but nobody walked through. Daphne pointed it out as soon as they left the classroom.

"What was with you?" she asked. "You barely made a fuss when Theo got points instead of you."

"Maybe she's finally accepted I'm the superior transfigurer," Theo preened.

"Never gonna happen," Keziah said dryly. "And is 'transfigurer' even a word?"

"I just made it one."

"Stop changing the subject," Daphne snapped. "Keziah?"

"I'm just worried about Draco," she admitted, then grimaced. "That sounded weird."

"Weird?" Blaise scoffed. "You sound crazy. I didn't think you could care about that weasel."

"I don't care about him," Keziah lied. "I just wonder how he got so upset that he skipped classes."

"I mean... we were pretty mean," said Daphne.

"Considering everything that comes out of his mouth; it's pot, kettle," Blaise shrugged.

Daphne couldn't find an argument for that, so she just nodded. 

"I might go look for him," Keziah admitted. 

"Why?" Theo snorted. "Let him get upset. He needs to learn that 'daddy's money' doesn't make him entitled to be rude."

"Aren't you also rich and rude?" Blaise laughed.

Theo didn't dignify him with a response, which made the others laugh harder.

As the conversation topic moved away from Draco Malfoy, Keziah still couldn't help but worry. He utterly deserved everything they said to him, but she couldn't help but still feel bad that he'd gotten so upset that he'd even pushed away Crabbe and Goyle. But she wouldn't be able to find him, even if she tried.

Her thoughts were cut short by the arrival of Fred and George through some sort of secret passage hidden behind a tapestry. They rushed out, nearly knocking Theo over as they hurried down the corridor. 

"Those two," Daphne sniffed, "are ridiculous."

"I swear they've learnt how to get around the 'no-apparating' rule," said Theo. "How else can they get around so fast? They seem to know every single nook and cranny of this place."

"Do you think they were given some sort of map from Dumbledore?" suggested Blaise. "Considering what the man lets them do, I wouldn't be surprised."

Ding.

Why hadn't she thought of it before? The Marauders Map could easily help her find Draco and if she'd gotten the thing off the twins once, she could do it again. She would do it again.

"I just remembered!" Keziah said. "I need to talk to them about something. I'll be back soon."

Before she could be questioned, Keziah walked ahead. 

"Fred! George!" she called, stopping the two in their tracks.

Fred spotted her first.

"Hey, Keziah," he said. "What do you need?"

"I need to borrow your map," she said. 

There was no point beating around the bush about it. The twins would realise what she was doing immediately and call her out anyways. Plus, it was funny to see their eyes widen.

"Don't say it so loud," George hissed and gently pulled her to a corner. "Why do you even need it?"

"I need to find somebody."

Fred scoffed. "You can't just take our map just because you want to find somebody. That's not even its purpose."

"Actually, Fred, it kind of is," said George sheepishly.

Fred rolled his eyes.

"You know, Keziah," he said, "that this is our map. You can't just waltz around and take it willy-nilly."

"Guys," Keziah laughed. "I took it one time and it was so I could save the school."

"Exactly!" said George. "This map is strictly for mischief-making and if that's not what you're doing, then you can bugger off."

Keziah scowled at them but then she got an idea.

"Fine," she sighed, hanging her head. "I guess that's it then. Although... I'm sure you have no reservations about sharing with your siblings?"

"Share with them?" Fred snickered. "Please — they don't even know about this."

Keziah mock-gasped. "Then I just have to inform them! I'm sure Percy would be very interested in it."

Suddenly Fred and George looked apprehensive.

"We're not scared of Percy," said George slowly.

"I know," Keziah said. "But you are scared of who he's going to tell. And it's not just McGonagall."

She stood with her hand outstretched. Sure enough, George groaned and stuck his hand in his pocket to retrieve the map. 

"Last time," he snapped.

"Sure," Keziah smiled and walked off, stuffing the parchment in her robes, humming victoriously.

She stopped in an empty classroom. There were too many of them in Hogwarts. After checking that there wasn't some couple snogging in the corner, she entered it and spread out the map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she whispered.

Despite having used the map before, it didn't fail to take her breath away as she watched the ink appear in swirls, as though an invisible hand was speed-painting it. Focussing herself, Keziah set to looking for Draco's name on the map. First, she checked the dungeons and everywhere near it, to no avail. 

After around five minutes of searching, Keziah was just about ready to give up when she saw a small side-spire, leading off from the Astronomy Tower. Absent-mindedly, she tapped it and the map zoomed into the spot. Eyes widened at the parchment's sudden capability, she mentally fist-pumped because, sure enough, there was Draco's name.

Thankfully, the spire was only a hallway or two away, which meant it wouldn't take her too long to reach it. 

Wiping the map clean, Keziah started down the hallway, startling some younger children coming out of their lessons. Shouting an apology as she went, she cut down another corridor. Her leg was aching distantly and she made a mental note to visit Madame Pomfrey.

Finally, she reached the secret staircase. As soon as she touched the railing, the spiral shot up and spit her out onto the cold stone. Keziah yelped, scrambling for something to hold onto when a cold hand pulled her upright. She looked up into Draco's angry grey eyes and she moved backwards.

"Why am I not surprised to see you?" he said flatly.

He was pressed against the wall, his knees brought up to his chest. His eyes were slightly red and Keziah wondered if he'd been crying. 

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You didn't come to Transfiguration and I'm pretty sure Crabbe and Goyle are freaking out."

"Then why aren't they here?" Draco snapped. "You should go."

"Not until I know why you're up here."

Draco just glared at her and turned around, resting his chin on the edge of the window. It didn't have any glass, so Keziah had no clue how the boy wasn't uncomfortable from the icy wind.

They sat in silence, a game of chicken to see who would break first. After some time, Keziah got out the Railway Children, a book she'd borrowed from Daphne's house. So now the only sounds in the tower were the slow turn of pages and the shrill cries of the wind. 

Over the edge of the book, she could feel Draco's eyes on her. She ignored him for at least another six pages before she couldn't take it any longer.

With a sharp sigh, she put down her book and looked directly at him. 

"What is it? Why are you staring at me?"

"I don't understand you," said Draco. "You hate me —"

"I don't hate anybody, Draco. Except for Voldemort," Keziah interrupted, smirking at Draco's wince.

"Fine," he sighed. "You act as though you hate me but then you turn around and say you feel sorry for me and you try and make me feel better."

"I do feel sorry for you," said Keziah honestly. "Like I said before, you're a huge prick but you're not a monster. There's good in you, no matter how deep it's buried underneath everything your parents dumped on you."

"This is what I mean!" Draco yelled suddenly, dragging his fingers through his har. "If you were anybody else, I'd just brush you off and think you're talking nonsense. But you, Keziah Potter, you get in my head and I hate you for it."

"Well that's a rather stupid reason to hate somebody," Keziah smiled. Then she stopped smiling. "I'm not sorry for what I said in the courtyard."

"I'd be more shocked if you were," said Draco. "But it isn't true. I don't like Potter. Not in any way at all."

"Don't you think that I know that?" Keziah said. "But it's what gets to you. Isn't that what you do? You say such horrible things to hurt people and you know how to.

"You target Ron because he's poor. You hate Hermione because her parents are Muggles and you're horrible to Harry because you're jealous he has what you want. You're furious that somebody denied you for the first time in your life and you're not getting what you want."

Draco looked absolutely stunned. Keziah took his speechlessness as an opportunity to continue talking.

"You don't like Muggle-borns because, apparently, they aren't proper wizards since they come from Muggles. But Squibs exist and you don't like them either, even though they generally have pureblood parents. You're hating people for things they can't control and you're forming opinions without even thinking for yourself."

She took a breath.

"There's no point growing up, Draco, if all you're going to do is become a clone of somebody else. If you think you can coast through life being disgusting to other human beings, just because of your father's influence, you're sorely mistaken."

"You're wrong," Draco growled, finding his voice. "Muggles are thieves and mudbloods are unnatural and disgusting. They're stealing magic from us."

Keziah laughed derisively.

"Why would they need magic?" she asked. "Muggles do not need magic. They manage perfectly on their own. They're not the stupid peasants you purists think they are."

"If you're just here so you can tell me ridiculous lies," Draco said," then leave now."

"Fine," Keziah hissed, breathing heavily. "But before I leave, can I ask you something? Have you ever talked to a Muggle? Hell, have you even talked to a Muggle-Born without insulting them for long enough to get to know them?"

"Why would I ever want to talk to a mudblood?" 

"Because they're human! Because they're regular, human beings with the same wants and needs as you! Do you know what? I do hate you! I hate you so much because you're so ignorant and vile and — argh!"

The trap door that led to the stairwell slammed hard as Keziah was pulled down it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious that I love Colin Creevey yet?
> 
> Also, I love how in the books, this chapter is literally named 'Gilderoy Lockhart' but doesn't feature him at all in my one


	7. Chapter 7

After Keziah argued with Draco, the air between them went from chilly to below freezing. She couldn’t even look him in the eye without either wanting to scream or to cry. Emotions sucked, Keziah thought privately. 

If her friends noticed the difference, they didn’t say anything though. 

There were greater things on Keziah’s mind though than the likes of Draco Malfoy. For one, she was having her first lesson with Lockhart and she was simultaneously excited and revolted. 

Thanks to Lavender Brown, the year group’s resident gossip, almost everyone was aware of Gilderoy Lockhart’s self-absorbed and incompetent teaching methods. Ironically, this made everybody even more interested in the man, which in turn, made him swagger around the castle with such grandeur that it made Keziah feel sick. 

According to Harry, Lockhart had also taken to the habit of stopping him in the corridors and giving him the most patronizing, idiotic advice Harry had ever heard. Strangely enough, Lockhart never lent Keziah the same treatment and she was curious to see whether that would change after her lesson with him. 

When the smarmy man welcomed the Second-Year Slytherins into his classroom, Keziah and her friends made a beeline towards the back. The room was covered in portraits of Lockhart, making it creepy to look anywhere, especially at the front. 

Lockhart clapped his hands and grinned widely as he looked out into the class. Lily Moon was staring dreamily out of the window while Pansy Parkinson was staring dreamily at Lockhart. 

Despite the less-than-warm response, the man still looked cheerful. He leaned over and grabbed Crabbe’s copy of Gadding with Ghouls and pointed to his face on it. 

“Me,” he said. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile — but I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her.” 

He waited for people to laugh but nobody even cracked a smile. Even Pansy was looking a little less dreamy. 

“I see you’ve all bought my book,” he continued. Keziah, Daphne, Theo and Blaise all smirked at each other from the back row. “I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken them in...” 

When he’d handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, “You have thirty minutes. Start now.” 

There was a chorus of rustling as everybody scribbled down their names and turned to the first page. Keziah read it in revulsion: 

> _1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite colour?_
> 
> _2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?_
> 
> _3\. What is, in your opinion, Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest ambition to date?_

It went on and on over three pages of the same drivel up and down to: 

> _54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart’s birthday and what would Gilderoy Lockhart’s ideal birthday present be?_

Keziah considered writing her complete honest answers but she didn’t want to blow her cover, especially not to a slimy git like him. Instead, she did something that he figured would hurt him even more. 

She ripped up the test. 

The parchment split with the most satisfying sound Keziah had heard in a long time. She ripped it once, then into quarters and then into eighths. She got up with everybody’s eyes on her and walked up to the paper basket and tossed the scraps in like confetti. Lockhart had been struck dumb even as she turned to him. 

“That’s what I think of your test, _Sir_ ,” she said politely. 

A shocked silence followed her as she walked back to her desk and sat calmly back in it. Daphne leaned over, grinning in awe. 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she hissed. 

“If that who our teacher is going to be this year, I don’t want him,” Keziah scowled. 

“You’re epic,” said Blaise honestly. 

“You’re mad,” said Theo, but he was also grinning openly. 

It seemed like Keziah’s stunt pulled a switch in the classroom as all the other students put down their quills one by one and folded their arms, staring defiantly at Lockhart, who finally found his voice. 

“P-Potter!” he said. Keziah guessed it was supposed to sound stern, but in truth, he just sounded weedy. 

“Yes?” she asked innocently, her eyes glinting with malice. 

Lockhart grabbed the nearest piece of paper he had and quickly wrote a note and shoved it into her hands. “Go find your Head of House and give him this. I’m also issuing you detention on Saturday.” 

Keziah stared at him for nearly a minute before she sighed and snatched the paper from him so roughly that it nearly tore. 

Just before she shut the door, she heard Lockhart pleading with the others to finish your test. Keziah smirked triumphantly and set down the corridor, very nearly skipping. However, when it occurred to Keziah that her Head of House was Snape, her mood instantly popped. 

There was no way she was getting out of this alive. 

Hanging her head, Keziah dragged her feet all the way to the staff room, where she reluctantly knocked on the door. Professor Sinistra opened it. 

“Miss Potter?” the willowy Astronomy professor asked, in her usual dry tone. “What do you need?” 

Keziah swallowed and looked away. “Well...” 

“Delaying things proves no good, Miss Potter,” said Professor Sinistra. “If you have something you dread, it is better to face it head-on.” 

“Even when I have to talk to Professor Snape about my behaviour in class?” Keziah muttered. 

Professor Sinistra smiled as though Keziah amused her. 

“Perhaps then it is best to wait,” she said lightly. “Anyways, Severus is not here. I imagine he is teaching right now. I’d suggest you get back to your class and visit him afterwards?” 

Keziah nodded and moved to walk away. 

“Oh, and Miss Potter?” 

She turned back. 

“Remember to start revising your star charts. Tomorrow’s lesson will start with a small test,” Professor Sinistra reminded before shutting the door. 

Keziah winced lightly. She always felt awkward when talking to the Astronomy professor. The woman had a detached air, as though she’d rather be living among the astral plains instead of being stuck on Earth. It didn’t help that Keziah had done worst in Astronomy in her final exam. 

Silently thanking life that she didn’t have to face Snape immediately, Keziah made her way back to the Defence classroom. Then she stopped half-way through. There was no reason to go back to the classroom and it wasn’t like there was any education going on anyway. 

Instead, she went to the library. Defence Against the Dark Arts was a double-period so she had quite some time before she needed to go see Snape. 

Madame Pince’s head whipped up the instant the door cracked open. 

“What are you doing here?” she snarled. “Don’t you have lessons?” 

“I —” Keziah stammered. “I — erm — I have a free period. My teacher didn’t show up.” 

Madame Pince squinted at Keziah over her spectacles, leaning in until she was inches away from Keziah’s face. 

“I don’t believe you,” she said plainly. “But you can stay. For now.” 

Keziah couldn’t believe her luck as she walked over to the Defence Against the Dark Arts section of the library. It was thankfully divided into year groups, which meant it took no time at all to compile a collection of books that would educate her more than Lockhart ever could. Although, now that Keziah thought about it, a flobberworm might’ve been more suitable. 

There was a moment (at least five minutes) where Keziah struggled with carrying all the books to the table while also actually getting to the table until she realised that she was a witch and there was such thing as a levitation charm. However, it was a moment that Keziah wanted to ignore, so she did. 

“Welcome to homeschooling: at school!” she muttered to herself with a twisted smirk and the false enthusiasm of a gameshow host. 

She turned to the first book, which looked older than Madame Pince herself. _An Introduction to Creatures Both Wizarding and Wonderful_ , it read, _by Malcolm Nook_. Cursing Lockhart under her breath, Keziah opened it and began to scribble down her notes. Although, she didn’t know exactly why she bothered; it wasn’t like there would be exams at the end of the year. 

Around an hour and a half later when Keziah’s hand was just about to give up from cramping, she stopped writing. She was quite proud of herself for having written nearly four pages full of notes and several diagrams. It was a shame she didn’t have the special highlighters that she prized so much in her Muggle world. 

Keziah’s thoughts halted. There didn’t go a day when she didn’t think about her old life. How could there be, when her old family were the first faces she saw every morning, behind her eyelids. But being caught off guard like this while she thought of them hurt more for some reason. 

Taking a few minutes to compose herself, she gathered the books and put away all her things. She disposed of all the textbooks she’d been using into one of Pince’s many bins and she went to find Snape. 

Somehow, time to anticipate Snape’s reaction made her feel even more nervous. Despite how much Keziah pretended not to care when she stood up to Hogwart’s ridiculous teaching choices, there was a small part of her that was left shellshocked. 

Snape seemed like he was waiting for her when she knocked on the door to his office. It swung open immediately, where the man was sat at his desk, hands folding in dangerous poise. 

“Hello,” she said nervously. “Professor.” 

“What have you done now, Miss Potter?” he said. 

Keziah kept quiet and didn’t move a muscle, which seemed to aggravate Snape even further. 

“Get in and close the door,” he snapped. “Now tell me exactly what you’ve done now.” 

Wordlessly, she handed Snape, Lockhart’s note. He read it with pursed lips, his black eyes following Lockhart’s unnecessarily flourished words. 

“You ripped up Professor Lockhart’s test?” Snape asked quietly, spitting out the word ‘Professor.’ “Explain.” 

“It wasn’t a real test!” Keziah protested. “There were just questions about Lockhart! About his stupid birthday and his hair and his favourite colour! Nothing about Defence or spells or anything important!” 

Keziah was so caught up in the injustice of it all that didn’t remember she was talking to a teacher until she paused for breath. 

“Are you done?” 

“Yes, Professor,” she whispered, looking at her shoes. 

“Am I correct in assuming you’re receiving a detention this Saturday?” 

“Yes, Professor.” 

“So you’re getting punished?” 

“Yes, Professor.” 

“Tell me, Miss Potter, are you a child or a broken record?” 

“Yes, Prof — No, sir,” Keziah stammered, looking up. 

“Then you can leave,” said Snape. 

“Aren’t you going to yell at me or take away points?” Keziah said in confusion. 

Snape’s face was emotionless as he shuffled his papers, still watching her. 

“Have I done either of those things?” he asked. 

“Erm, no,” she answered. 

“Then you are free to leave,” he said with finality. 

Swallowing a myriad of excuses, Keziah shuffled out of Snape’s office and waited until she was at least six twists and turns away from it before she silently punched the air and whooped. 

She’d survived Snape’s office without either of them getting angry. It was more of a miracle than facing Filch and making it out alive, which she’d also done. 

Smiling all the way to her common room, Keziah entered it to find Daphne, Theo and Blaise waiting for her. Blaise jumped up as soon as he saw her. 

“Hi, guys,” she began. 

Blaise grabbed her arms and shook her back and forth. “What. Were. You. Thinking!” 

He punctuated each word with a shake before letting her go. 

“What was that for?” Keziah said, steadying herself by sitting down next to Daphne. 

“Daphne thought your little stunt in D.A.D.A was funny so Blaise decided to be the responsible one,” said Theo in amusement. 

“Wouldn’t that be you?” asked Keziah. 

“That’s what I said but I was outvoted,” Theo sighed. 

“By who?” 

“Blaise put both his hands up,” Daphne laughed. 

“I believe it was a _fair_ election,” Blaise sniffed. 

Keziah sat back watching the three bicker for a bit. It was like watching siblings fight, she supposed. 

“Keziah!” Daphne said breaking the argument. “How did it go? With Snape? I was so worried when you didn’t show for the whole period.” 

“I was hiding out in the library for the whole lesson and I just saw Snape,” Keziah admitted. “And he didn’t say anything!” 

“What!” Blaise screeched. 

“He said absolutely nothing,” Keziah repeated. “He just asked me about my detention and let me go.” 

“Snape’s gone loopy,” said Theo. “That’s the only explanation.” 

“Well... he does make an awful amount of potions,” said Blaise. “The fumes must affect him somehow.” 

“Ignoring whether or not Snape’s crazy,” said Daphne, eyeing the boys, “I thought we agreed to fill in Keziah about the lesson.” 

“There’s nothing to fill her in on,” said Theo. “Lockhart marked our tests and waffled about his life for at least an hour. Then we had to read an excerpt of one of his books about when he met some Cornish Pixies or something.” 

“Utter rubbish,” Blaise said in disgust. 

“I don’t need it,” said Keziah. “When I was in the library, I took my own notes.” 

“Using the library for studying?” Theo exclaimed. 

“Disgraceful,” said Blaise, shaking his head. 

“I’m going to show Keziah my notes anyway,” said Daphne. “Come on, Keziah. They’re upstairs.” 

As soon as the dormitory doors shut, Daphne pressed her head against the door. 

“I love them but as soon as they team up,” she said and shuddered. 

“Like you don’t enjoy every minute of it,” Keziah snorted. 

Daphne smiled but didn’t say anything else. Instead, she swooped down, rummaging around in her trunk. Suddenly, she stopped and withdrew a large bag. 

“I completely forgot about this,” she said. 

“Oh, yeah!” said Keziah, moving forward to look at the contents. 

* 

_“Mum?” Daphne called, staggering slightly under the weight of so many notebooks. “Could you erase the ink from my old books?”_

_Ms Walsh looked up from her television programme in surprise, taking in Daphne, the books, and Keziah standing awkwardly behind her._

_“What is this about?” she asked in amusement._

_Daphne looked back at Keziah, silently arguing with her for a few seconds. Sighing, Keziah moved forward._

_“We want to start a business,” she explained. “Of Muggle things. Hogwarts is sorely lacking and we can make a decent amount of money selling things.”_

_“So you’re pawning off Daphne’s old things?” Ms Walsh said._

_Daphne mumbled something under her breath, dragging her foot back and forth against the carpet._

_“What was that, dear?”_

_“We were also hoping if you could buy some stuff, Mum,” Daphne said. “Like sweets and pens and pencils?”_

_“Also books,” added Keziah._

_Ms Walsh laughed. “So I’m your supplier?”_

_The girls looked at each other then back at Ms Walsh before nodding sheepishly._

_“Well...” Ms Walsh said thoughtfully. “As long as you don’t get in trouble, I don’t see why not? What do you need?”_

_After sorting everything out, Keziah and Daphne reconvened in the latter’s room._

_“We probably shouldn’t tell her we’re also taking the old record player,” said Daphne. “And the records.”_

_“What your mum doesn’t know won’t kill her,” Keziah shrugged, ticking off items on their list._

_*_

“What a terrible start to our business,” Daphne giggled. “We forgot all about it.” 

“There’s no reason we can’t start now,” said Keziah. “If we drag all this stuff downstairs and put it on one of the homework tables — It can be a sort of tuckshop.” 

“Do you think Blaise and Theo will help?” asked Daphne. 

“If it involves money?” Keziah scoffed. “They’ll take over if we’re not careful.” 

“Then go get them,” said Daphne, making shooing motions with her hand. “We’ll need their help to get this stuff in there since you can barely carry anything.” 

Keziah smiled and made her way back to Theo and Blaise. 

“Where’s Daph?” asked Blaise. 

“She’s back in the dorms,” said Keziah. “We need your help.” 

“With what?” asked Theo. 

“We’re kind of starting a business selling Muggle things to other students and we need you guys to help us,” Keziah explained quickly. 

“Muggle things?” Theo repeated slowly. 

Keziah glared at him and he put his hands up and mimed zipping it shut. 

“I’m down as long as I get to advertise,” shrugged Blaise. 

“Do you know anything about Muggle things?” she asked. 

Blaise went to answer and then stopped. “Point redacted.” 

It took a little while but within the hour, they had got everything set up on one of the larger homework tables. A small crowd had gathered around them, a mixture of intrigue and disgust placed on their faces. 

“What are you doing?” scowled a fourth-year. 

“Get that Muggle filth out of our Common Room,” shouted another. 

Keziah glanced over at her friends. She had a feeling this was going to very wrong very fast. Then Theo stepped out, his mouth wobbling. He shot a look at her before he spread his arms out and cleared his throat. 

“People, people, please!” he called out to the crowd. “Please calm yourselves. Yes, these are Muggle items but that doesn't make them terrible! These items have been handpicked to make your Hogwarts experience better! And this comes from Theodore Cantankerous Nott, heir to one of the most gracious pureblood dynasties!” 

There was a storm of mutters that followed Theo’s words. He moved back into place. 

“I just jeopardized myself for you,” he whispered harshly in Keziah’s ear. “I hope you’re happy.” 

One fifth-year girl moved forward. 

“What’s so good about your stuff anyway?” she asked. “What can they do that magic can’t do a hundred times better?” 

Daphne cleared her throat. “Well... it depends on what you’re referring to.” 

A first-year frowned and picked up one of the pens. “What’s this? It looks like a piece of junk.” 

“It’s a pen,” explained Keziah. “It’s like an automatic quill.” 

“Where’s its inkpot?” asked another. 

“That’s the brilliance of it,” said Keziah, smiling gently. “It doesn’t need one. All the ink is stored inside it. You can use it for months and months before it runs out and then you just get a new one. Plus you don’t have to sharpen it and they’re much easier to carry around.” 

“No more getting ink over my things?” asked a girl in awe. 

“Yep.” 

More muttering occurred, but it felt positive. Hope started bubbling at the brim of Keziah’s chest. 

“How much is a pen?” asked the first boy. 

Daphne and Keziah grinned at each other 

After the rocky start, it turns out that a large portion of the Slytherins didn’t particularly care that they were buying Muggle items. Almost all the pens and pencils were bought as well as several notebooks. Some of the more bookish Slytherins took a great interest in the stack of Muggle novels and comic books the girls had piled up. 

The packs of sweets they’d brought along, an assortment that ranged from M&Ms to Candy Love Hearts. They might’ve not had the same glamour of wizarding sweets but they were sweets all the same, which meant people bought them. 

The record player was also a huge hit. Coming from children that generally only had the options to listen to Celestina Warbeck or the Weird Sisters, the new music was welcome. They started charging for the students to pick songs to play, turning the old record player into a sort of jukebox. 

There were still some hard-core purists who stood at the edges of the common room, glaring at the ‘stall’ with great loathing. Keziah took no notice. 

By the time dinner rolled around and the children had to pack up, they had brought in a large sum of galleons. 

“Who knew people were so into this Muggle junk,” said Theo, sucking on a refresher. 

The BeeGees were playing in the background, the trills of ‘Staying Alive’ punctuating the conversation. 

“Says the dude who started up our sales pitch,” said Keziah. 

“That was just for business,” Theo shrugged. “Muggle stuff might not be that bad but Muggles are still uneducated —” 

“Don’t make me hit you when I’m feeling so happy,” said Keziah sharply. 

* 

The rest of the week passed with little happening. After Keziah’s stunt in his class, Lockhart didn’t dare come up to her. Colin popped up at least three times a day to say hello and Keziah greeted him every time. She found the first-year to be utterly adorable and Daphne agreed with her. Even Theo admitted that “the Creevey kid has some charm under all that annoyance.” 

Several people, from all houses, also came up to her, Daphne, Blaise or Theo to ask about their business. It was rather surprising how quickly word had gotten around. The Muggle Studies professor, Professor Burbage, even cornered them at one point to award them ten points each for spreading culture at Hogwarts. Theo still hadn’t stopped muttering about it. 

Draco didn’t talk to Keziah during the week once either but she didn’t care that much. 

She was focused more on the fact that Saturday had rolled around so she could finally get some sleep. However, that plan failed instantly when Keziah was rudely awoken by Blaise. He loomed over her, saying something very quickly. 

She screeched and scrambled backwards. 

“Blaise! What the hell!” 

“Can you come to watch the Quidditch practice with me?” he asked excitedly. 

Keziah sat up straight, rubbing her eyes. She saw that Pansy Parkinson was buried completely under her covers while Millicent had her pillow firmly over her ears. Smart girls, she thought wryly. 

“What time is it,” she moaned. 

“Around seven-thirty,” Blaise chirped. 

Keziah muttered for him to bugger off, burying deeper into her warm covers. 

A sudden influx of cold air assaulted her which awoke her properly. Blaise had just ripped the covers off her bed. 

“How dare you!” she hissed. 

“Please,” he begged. “Theo’s out like a light and I’m scared to ask Daphne.” 

Keziah glared at him for a few more seconds before she sighed deeply and dragged herself out of bed. She grabbed a random robe from her trunk and disappeared into the bathroom, mentally cursing her friend. 

By the time she came back out, he was sitting calmly on her bed, throwing and catching a tennis ball. 

“Finished?” he asked. 

“Let’s go,” she said begrudgingly. Blaise clapped his hands in excitement, jumping from the bed. 

Draco was waiting for them as they exited the dorms, decked in his bright green uniform, hands grasping his broom. Keziah side-eyed Blaise who looked at her innocently. She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Are we going to stand here or what?” she asked. 

The walk up to the grounds was awkward, to say the least. Nobody said a word. Keziah almost appreciated it. There was something sacred about the peace of the early morning when there was nobody around to disrupt the gentle sunlight streaming in through windows and the dew on the grass. 

As they got closer to the stadium, Keziah stopped. 

“Hang on,” she said. “Aren’t the Gryffindors practising today?” 

“Not for long,” said Draco nastily. 

“What’s the matter, Draco?” Keziah asked snidely. “Scared to see them be better than you on every level except broom model?” 

Draco’s cheeks went pale pink and he stopped talking. 

Keziah felt a sigh of relief as she and Blaise walked into the pitch. They spotted Ron and Hermione near the edge of the stands, with a pile of toast between them. 

“Do you want to sit next to them?” she asked. 

Blaise made a small whining noise. 

“They have food?” 

“What are we waiting for?” he said, speeding across the sand. 

Ron spotted them first and waved. 

“What are you two doing here?” he said. “I can understand Keziah but Zabini?” 

“Slytherin practice is about to start,” said Blaise, stealing a slice of toast. 

“But it’s Gryffindor’s turn,” said Hermione. 

Blaise shrugged, unperturbed. “Apparently, Flint sorted everything out with Snape so they get the pitch today. ‘Cause Draco’s the new seeker and everything.” 

“You what?” Ron said, nearly choking on his bread. 

“He told me on the train,” added Keziah. “His dad paid for everybody to get Nimbus 2001s so they let him onto the team.” 

“That’s disgusting,” Hermione snapped. 

“Here here,” said Blaise, raising his toast as if to, well, toast. 

There was a commotion further into the pitch. They stopped their conversation to look over. The Slytherin team had arrived and judging from Oliver Wood’s face, whatever Flint was saying wasn’t very good. 

“They’re going to kill each other if we don’t get over there,” Hermione murmured. 

“Let’s go,” Keziah agreed. 

They hurried across the field as quickly as they could. 

“Get off the pitch, Malfoy,” Ron snarled. 

“Why should we, Weasley?” said Draco in return. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Everybody was just admiring our new brooms.” 

Despite having known about them, Ron still gaped, his outstretched and shaking as though he wanted to touch one of them. 

“Good, aren’t they?” Draco smirked broadly. “Perhaps the Gryffindor team could pile some gold together and get some new brooms too. You could raffle those Cleansweep Fives. I’m sure a museum would bid for them.” 

The Slytherin team howled with laughter. 

“You’re all babies,” snapped Keziah. 

“Shut up, you Muggle-loving, cripple traitor,” said one of the boys, perhaps Warrington. 

Harry snarled, moving forward only to be held back by Fred. 

“Too far, Bole,” Blaise growled. “Leave her out of this.” 

“Besides, it’s not like anybody on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got it through pure talent.” 

The smug look on Draco’s face flickered and his lips tightened. 

“Nobody asked for your opinion, you —” 

Keziah held her breath. She waited for him to say it, for him to spit that hateful word. She watched his eyes flicker towards her for less than a moment. 

“puffy-haired beaver,” he finished. 

Hermione scowled at him and Keziah took over before Ron committed serial murder. 

“It sounds like you’re scared, Draco,” she said. “How about you settle this with a match? See once and for all who’s the better team?” 

There were mutters of assets from both teams. 

“Yeah,” said Oliver Wood, his eyes glinting. “What do you say, Flint?” 

Marcus Flint glared at Oliver’s outstretched hand but he reluctantly shook it. He pointed a finger at Draco. 

“You, go get the balls,” he directed. 

“Harry, go with him,” Oliver added. “Make sure he doesn’t cheat.” 

Harry nodded and rushed off after Draco. 

“A galleon they’ll kill each other in there,” said Keziah in the issuing silence. 

“A galleon they’ll kiss,” countered Blaise. 

Ron made a noise like he was choking. 

“What the hell, Zabini,” he wheezed. 

Blaise stared at him innocently. “What’s the matter?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “We should get to the stands.” 

“We saw a kid up there,” said Alicia Bell. “He was taking photos like mad,” 

“That’s just Colin,” Keziah reassured her. 

When Dumbledore had said he was going to enchant all the stairs on the grounds, he clearly meant ALL the stairs. It was the most thrilling experience of Keziah’s life as she stepped onto the rickety wooden steps and they whooshed all the way to the top. Ron, Hermione and Blaise’s faces were also brilliant. 

“I think I just died of a heart attack,” said Ron faintly. 

They joined Colin who was holding a pair of comically-big binoculars. As soon as he saw them, he grinned and started scrambling with his pockets. 

“Hi, guys!” he beamed. “I have the photographs!” 

“Let’s see, bud,” said Blaise, shuffling over. 

Colin handed them each one. “Now I just have to get them to your other friends. What are their names, again?” 

“That’s Daphne,” said Keziah, “and that’s Theo.” 

“I still can’t believe these move,” said Colin disbelievingly. “It’s a shame there’s no colour, though.” 

“The wonder’s of Wizarding technology,” Keziah smirked. 

She looked down at her copy. They were all laughing and messing with each other. Daphne was turned up to Blaise, saying something while Keziah ruffled Colin’s hair. 

“Could you sign it?” he asked hopefully. “I asked Harry but he said no. He explained the rules of Quidditch though. It was all very exciting.” 

“Of course, I’ll sign it,” Keziah smiled. “Guys.” 

Blaise shrugged with a small smile. Ron and Hermione looked at each other and nodded. 

“Why not,” they said. 

Using a quill that Colin provided, she signed the photo next to her face with a flourish. Blaise went next. 

“Keep this with you,” he winked. “It might be worth a lot when you’re older.” 

They were interrupted by the arrival of Katie Bell. 

“You, Potter,” she said. 

Keziah looked up in surprise. “What’s the matter?” 

“We need a referee and you’re the fairest person,” she said. “Of course, the Slytherins still aren’t satisfied but at least Pucey can get into his thick head that you have nothing to lose, nothing to gain.” 

Keziah hurriedly stopped Katie’s muttered rant. “I’d be happy to referee. But I’m not on a broom.” 

“That’s fine,” said Katie. “I can fly you up to the teacher’s box and you can watch from there.” 

The girl held her hand out and Keziah hesitated for half a second. Then the others started clamouring for her to do it and she caved. 

“We’ll see you up there,” said Blaise, already walking to the stairs. 

Katie smiled and helped Keziah clamber on without hurting her leg too much. She realised belatedly that she’d left her cane back on the ground and prayed that one of her friends noticed. 

Keziah hadn’t been on a broom since the flying lessons in first-year and she maintained that it was as horrible as it had been the first time. 

When Katie got her to the teacher’s booth, it took both 0f them to get Keziah into it. She had to use the balcony to hold herself up. Katie shot her a worried look but Keziah brushed her off. 

“I’m fine, Bell,” she said. 

One of the Slytherin players flew over. 

“You ready, Potter?” he asked. “Judge fair, right?” 

“Course she will,” snapped Katie. “But will you play fair, Pucey?” 

“I will,” he scowled. “What my teammates do isn’t up to me.” 

“How will you lot hear me?” Keziah asked over their argument. 

Katie dug into her robes and tossed a whistle. 

“It’s Wood’s,” she said. “Just blow it and we stop. If you shout, I’m sure we’ll be able to hear you. You know the rules of Quidditch, right?” 

“I’ve read Quidditch Through the Ages enough,” said Keziah. 

Both players flew away and they got into positions. Blaise and the other climbed into the stall just as Keziah blew her whistle to start the game. 

“Forget something?” asked Ron, holding up her cane. 

Keziah took it gratefully. “You’re brilliant,” she said. 

Ron’s ears turned bright red and he mumbled thanks. 

“How about we get back to the game?” Hermione asked sharply. 

Keziah was glad that her friends were there. They spotted half the fouls or goals before she did. Colin was ecstatic when they let him man the score counter. 

The game went on back and forth for at least half an hour until Keziah spotted the snitch hovering near one of the goalposts. Both Harry and Draco were nearby, shouting insults at each other. 

“The snitch is by the goals!” she shouted. 

They looked up in unison and shot at the small ball. Draco tried shoving Harry, who barrel-rolled around him. Putting on a burst of speed, Harry’s finger brushed the snitch, grabbing it, just as Draco was about to. Keziah guessed that, had Harry been a second too slow, Draco would’ve gotten it. But he didn’t 

She blew her whistle hard. 

“GRYFFINDOR WINS!” she hollered. “They get to practise.” 

Following her announcement, Keziah hurried down to the ground as fast as she could. Blaise was running even faster, racing up to the Gryffindor team to ask them all sorts of questions. Ron and Hermione ran just as fast, yelling Harry’s name and cheering. 

The Slytherin team landed all around her. 

“What was that?” snarled one of them. “You favoured them!” 

“No, I didn’t,” said Keziah flatly. “I was fair. It’s not my fault you lot wanted to cheat.” 

“You’re a traitor, Potter,” spat Montague. 

“No, she’s not,” said Pucey stepping up. He looked mildly uncomfortable with all the eyes on him, but he didn’t waver. “She’s right. We lost because we cheated. And we’ll keep losing if we coast by on underhanded trickery.” 

“If you like criticising me so much,” Marcus Flint said silkily, “you can join her. Don’t come back to my Quidditch team until you accept the way I run it.” 

He shoved Pucey roughly. The boy went tumbling into the dirt. The other team members laughed. Pucey got back to his feet and shoved Flint back. 

Keziah backed away slowly. She didn’t mean to start a fight. Biting her lip, she edged away to the Gryffindors. But she couldn’t, because they were coming over.

“Oi, Flint,” Oliver called. “I know you’re upset you lost but don’t take it out on your teammates.”

Marcus dropped Pucey onto the ground, spitting at his feet.

“You got lucky, Wood,” he said. “Keep your pitch. We’ll be wiping it with you when the time comes.”

Draco looked like he was going to say something as Flint gestured for them to leave but then he shook his head and left along with the rest.

Keziah walked up to Pucey, who was sat on the floor, staring at the sand.

“I’m sorry,” she said timidly. “I didn’t mean to get you kicked off the team.”

Pucey shook his head. “It was a long time coming,” he said. “I’ve never liked Flint. Plus he’s leaving next year. I’ll get to play after that.”

He got up heavily, wincing as he stretched out his limbs.

“I’ll see you around, Potter,” he said, clapping her on the shoulder. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a Slytherin like you around here.”

Keziah stared at his retreating back. She still felt bad.

“I think I’ve had enough of Quidditch, don’t you?” said Blaise quietly, pulling her back.

She nodded silently.

*

The rest of Saturday melted away faster than an ice-lolly in July. One moment, Keziah and Blaise were recounting the events of the morning to Theo and Daphne, and the next, she was dragging her feet towards Lockhart’s office, Harry beside her.

“Thanks,” he said, “for getting back the Quidditch Pitch. Can’t believe you got them to agree to a match.”

“It was nothing,” she said brightly.

Before they could even knock, Lockhart’s door flew open and the man himself stood there, grinning toothily.

“Here’s the scallywag!” he said. “Come in, Harry, come in — oh. You’re here too. I’d almost forgotten.”

Keziah nearly smiled at the swift change in the teacher’s, if you could even call him that, attitude. She looked into the office and nearly gagged. It was full of framed photos of Lockhart, some of them even signed. There were a few old newspapers on his desk. She squinted at them, but once he caught her looking, they got shoved into a drawer.

“You can address the envelopes,” he directed, splitting the huge pile in two.

The minutes crept by with the speed of a sloth. Lockhart talked through it all and Keziah’s brain tuned it out to background noise. As they wrote, the candles burned lower and lower, the light streaking and flickering across the room.

Keziah’s eyelids drooped shut and she wondered how bad it would be to let them stay closed. She’d nearly fallen asleep when Harry gave a huge jump, half-knocking Keziah off her chair.

“What!” he said loudly.

Lockhart kept speaking about some sort of book sales and she groaned.

“Not that, you idiot,” she snapped. “Harry’s heard something.”

“I heard a voice,” said Harry frantically.

“What are you two talking about,” said Lockhart. “You must be a bit drowsy. Great Scott — look at the time! We’ve been here for nearly four hours! I’d never had believed it — the time’s flown, hasn’t it?”

Keziah’s limbs cracked and ached as she hauled herself up. She and Harry left Lockhart’s office in a sort of daze, although for different reasons.

“Did you hear it too?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t hear anything,” said Keziah. “What happened?”

Harry recounted what had happened, how he’d heard a bone-chilling voice threatening violent murder.

“Do you believe me?” he practically begged.

“Of course,” she said seriously. “I’ll always believe you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Keziah wanted to murder Lockhart. This wasn’t a new feeling, but it was particularly strong that Sunday morning. The cuckoo clock Millicent had hung up said that it was around eleven in the morning and the dorms were empty.

However, that wasn’t the kicker. That came with the note stuck to her forehead.

> _‘Hi, Keziah,_
> 
> _Theo wanted to go out to the Greenhouses today and he dragged Blaise and me with him. We wanted to take you but you were asleep :(. Since you came back so late, we thought we’d just let you rest. Don’t bother looking for us since we’ll probably end up somewhere crazy._
> 
> _Love Daphne_
> 
> _AND BLAISE_
> 
> _-Theo’_

Keziah didn’t know if it was normal to have her stomach sink as she read the silly little note but it did. She didn’t hang out with very many people and seeing as everybody else from her dorms had left too, she was alone.

Crumpling the parchment into a very small ball, she dragged herself out of bed to try and figure out how her day would work. Thanks to her sour mood, everything felt worse. Her leg didn’t stop aching and the potions were like acid trickling down her throat. As she chucked the vial into the bin, Keziah made a mental note to go to Madame Pomfrey for a restock.

She left the common room, dreading the journey all the way up to the Great Hall. It was depressing when she was by herself, even with the pseudo-elevators. Then she stopped. There was another option.

The Hogwarts Kitchens were an open secret for the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students. Everybody knew about them and knew how to get in. There was a sort of ceasefire in the Kitchens, inter-house conflict frozen in the face of a warm fire and cheery house-elves offering up food.

Of course, Keziah avoided the place, normally. She hated watching the house-elves scurry around, happy with their imprisonment. However, today would be the day she finally broke. Taking a deep breath, she turned foot and made her way to the portrait of fruit.

When Keziah stumbled through the portrait hole, she immediately knew it was a mistake because there was a boy in there. She recognised him from her Astronomy class on Wednesday: Zacharias Smith. She’d sat next to him thanks to unfortunate placing and he’d spent the whole time making disparaging comments about everything and anything. Keziah hated the stereotype that Hufflepuff was the house for Wizarding leftovers but she wouldn’t question if that was the case for the boy.

He spotted her almost instantly and his eyes narrowed.

“You’re Keziah Potter,” he said leisurely.

“You just noticed?” she snapped back. “Aren’t you bright?”

He scowled. “I wouldn’t take that tone with me, Potter. Just because Dumbledore felt sorry for you doesn’t mean I do.”

“Trust me, Smith,” said Keziah, straightening. “The last thing I want is your approval. What are you even doing here? Don’t you have friends?”

“Don’t you?” Zacharias shot back. “What, did they all leave after your sob story fell through the floor? I mean who would believe that you got attacked by a three-headed-dog? The people in this school.”

Anger rose in the back of Keziah’s throat, the beginning of a growling roar that would end up in either of them being quite hurt. She reeled it back a bit.

“Back off, Smith,” she snarled. “I just came here for breakfast. If you’re looking for a fight then you’re not going to find one with me.”

Keziah was thankful as a house-elf interrupted the conversation. The tiny thing cleared their throat very squeakily.

“Excuse me, miss?” they said. “I hears that you is looking for breakfast? What would Miss like?”

“Just some toast,” she said awkwardly. “I can get it mys —”

Before she could even get the word out, two more house-elves appeared with a stack of perfectly browned toast and a slab of butter and a small jar of jam.

“Will this be enough?” asked the first elf.

“You didn’t need to do all this,” Keziah protested. “I could’ve gotten it myself.”

“It’s an elf’s job to serve you,” the elf said.

Keziah wanted to protest again but she knew the elves’ reaction to somebody challenging their brainwashing. Sighing through her nostrils, she took the toast and gave them all a thankful smile.

“Can I, at least, give you something in return?” she asked softly.

“What are you doing?” Zacharias Smith squawked.

Ignoring him, Keziah pulled out a few pretty clips she’d gotten from Daphne the other day. It wasn’t technically clothing but she supposed it would make the elves happy.

“This isn’t clothing,” she explained slowly. “It’s a gift.”

While the elves stared at her in shock, she pinned the clips to their teatowels or their ears, after checking if it hurt.

“Do you like them?”

“This is a mistake, Miss,” said one of the elves. “We do not get gifts.”

They started to take off the flower clip when Keziah stopped them.

“Keep it,” she said sincerely. “I want to do this. You helped me so I’m saying thank you. Am I allowed to say thank you like this?”

The elves glanced at each other. “We suppose it is not against the rules.”

The trio bowed and scurried away, whispering to each other.

“I didn’t even know their names,” Keziah muttered to herself, helping herself to the toast. “You want some, Smith?”

The boy startled, staring at Keziah as if she’d gone mad. “Excuse me?”

“Do you want some of my toast?” she said slowly, as if to a toddler. “I’m not going to eat all of this and it’s a shame to put it to waste.”

Zacharias Smith edged his hand towards the bread, snatching a slice as though Keziah would bite his arm off as soon as he was in range. It nearly made her laugh. Instead, she just ate two slices, brushed her hands on her lap and got up.

“You can have the rest,” she said. “I’m not that hungry.”

“You’re weird, Potter,” said Smith.

“I’m flattered,” she said flatly, shutting the portrait door behind her.

Now that she was finished eating, her leg hurt a bit less, and the lump in her throat was gone. She had nothing to do since her teachers thankfully hadn’t set any homework.

Keziah had nearly resigned herself to curling up in the common room, reading one of the defence books she’d checked out until her friends came back. That changed when a student came running up to her.

“You’re Keziah Potter, correct?” they asked.

Keziah stared at them.

“Stupid question. Madame Pomfrey is asking for you.”

The student handed her a note and walked off. Keziah read it to affirm that it wasn’t some prick trying to be funny. It was the matron’s handwriting. At least, it was something to do.

Once again, she changed course, humming one of the songs that had been playing in the common room the night before.

Madame Pomfrey was waiting for her when she stepped in.

“Miss Potter!” the matron said, hurrying forward. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’m sorry that I didn’t call you here sooner but I’ve been a tad busy helping our newest aid settle in.”

“Newest aid?” Keziah asked. The Hospital Wing had forever been run by Madame Pomfrey and Madame Pomfrey only. She didn’t see why this needed to change now.

Just as she spoke, somebody came out of Madame Pomfrey’s office. It was a shock to see him out of his lime-green robes. Instead, he was dressed in the same burgundy and cream as Pomfrey.

“Phoebus?” Keziah gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Phoebus Hickory grinned nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in our last session but I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. “Poppy’s amazing but she isn’t that well-versed in injuries of your calibre.” Madame Pomfrey gave an offended sniff and Phoebus coughed. “But she’s still a fantastic healer on every account, of course. I just thought I might come and help out.”

“What about St Mungo’s?”

“This is a part-time thing,” said Madame Pomfrey quickly. “I believe Hickory will be here on Thursdays and Sundays, yes?”

Phoebus nodded. “I need to sort some things out but if you ever have any trouble with your leg and I’m in, I’ll be happy to help.”

Just as he had arrived, Phoebus disappeared again. It made Keziah blink. Her physiotherapist was always like this, even during the summer. He did his job and vanished as soon as it was done, without a second to spare. It was rather disconcerting.

“He’s an intelligent young man,” said Madame Pomfrey, staring at the closed door. “But people aren’t his thing. I’m not sure why he chose this career... but each to their own.”

“I —”

“Anyways,” Madame Pomfrey breezed on. “I called you here to examine your leg. You’ve had three months to adjust to these circumstances and I want to see how you’re doing now. It won’t even take an hour.”

Before Keziah could say anything consequential, the matron got her onto a bed and started her examination. Madame Pomfrey said a lot of confusing spells; running her wand up and down her legs as pale, yellow light followed.

After that finished, Madame Pomfrey scratched something down on her clipboard, mumbling under her breath.

Then Keziah worked through several exercises and by the time Pomfrey was done, Keziah’s body might’ve been hit with a round of jelly-legs jinxes and she wouldn’t have known the difference.

“Am I finished, Miss?” she wheezed.

“Nearly,” said Madame Pomfrey. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”

Keziah raised an eyebrow and Madame Pomfrey laughed.

“I’m telling the truth, Keziah.”

Hanging her head, Keziah flopped on the nearest bed and waved her hand for Pomfrey to continue. The elder woman flipped through her clipboard, searching for something before she spoke.

“How have you been finding life, now that you’re somewhat used to things?” she asked.

Keziah shrugged. “I don’t know — fine?”

Madame Pomfrey made a face as she noted the answer down.

“Have you found that the potions we provided are doing their job?”

“Not exactly,” Keziah admitted. “They’ve started wearing off and my leg hurts more often. Hogwarts’ terrain doesn’t help.”

The matron nodded. “I suspected something like this happening. The body can sometimes become immune to pain relief potions, especially young ones. However, Hickory and I have come up with a solution.”

She brought forward a tray of new potions. They were a brilliant blue, swirling endlessly in their little round vials.

“Since Hickory is muggle-born, he likes incorporating Muggle methods into his healing,” Pomfrey explained. “Normally, I disapprove but after this... I might give Hickory’s idea a try.”

“So what are these?” Keziah coughed.

“I believe they’re similar to Muggle vaccines — Hickory used components of the dog’s venom but changed them to help you. Are you following?”

Keziah nodded quickly, although she didn’t the faintest idea what Madame Pomfrey was talking about. Science had never been her strong suit and that certainly wasn’t going to change now.

“You’ll be having these once a day,” Pomfrey instructed. “No more than that. This technique is still experimental and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Experimental?” Keziah laughed. “I’m so glad you have my safety in mind.”

Madame Pomfrey shot her a withering glare. “Miss Potter, your well-being is my top priority. However, if you doubt me, I’m perfectly happy leaving you with your original prescription.”

“Nonononono, Madame Pomfrey, please! I’m sorry!” Keziah stammered quickly. The matron stayed stoic for a few seconds before she broke, giving a Keziah a slight smile.

“I’d suggest you watch your tongue, Miss Potter,” she warned. “I might be lenient but you can still get points taken away for such a tone.”

Keziah nodded her head solemnly. “Sorry, Madame Pomfrey... Does this mean I have to leave?”

“Nice try,” said Madame Pomfrey sharply. “But yes, you can leave.”

Keziah pumped her fist, grabbing her cane. She said goodbye to Phoebus and took the new potions and stored them carefully in her satchel.

“You’ll be back here every week for a quick check-up,” Madame Pomfrey instructed just as Keziah was about to cross the door.

“Seriously?” she whined.

The matron didn’t answer, simply staring sternly as she folded the bedclothes.

“I’ll see on Sunday,” Keziah groaned, finally leaving the wing.

The overwhelming sense of loneliness that had been plaguing Keziah before she visited Pomfrey returned with full force before Keziah had reached the end of the corridor.

“I need more friends,” she muttered under her breath.

“Of course you do,” said one of the portraits. “You look positively pathetic standing here like this!”

Keziah swore at the painted figure. It sniffed and vanished out of the side. Still fuming, she turned foot towards the dungeons. Keziah was sure Daphne had some Muggle books stored under her bed. She’d probably borrow one and spend the afternoon reading near the lake. It wasn’t a terrible way to pass the time.

As the wall to the common room slid open, Keziah couldn't help but hope that her friends were there, waiting for her. The bubble of hope popped the minute she stepped inside.

“Potter, you look like somebody killed your crup,” said a snide voice from one of the armchairs. “What happened?”

“I don’t have the energy for this, Draco,” Keziah sighed. She honestly didn’t. Her legs hurt and she wanted to drop herself into the lake and stay there. The merpeople had it easy, she thought bitterly.

Draco leaned over the back of his chair, so his pointy chin rested on the top. He looked surprised.

“Are you okay, Potter?” he asked.

“You’re asking me this?” she snorted, running her hands through her hair before grimacing. It was getting too long. She’d probably cut it soon. Pansy would complain about how the sink was full of hair, but she could get over that.

“Since your brother isn’t here, and even if he were — I wouldn’t give a damn about him — yes, I’m asking you.”

Against her better judgement, Keziah collapsed on the sat next to Draco, her head falling into her hands. She felt him scoot away.

“So, are you alright?” Draco asked again, more subdued.

“What do you think?” she grumbled from behind her hands.

“I think you’re being over-dramatic about something foolish,” said Draco. “Girls are like that, especially ones like you.”

“Don’t base your assumption of girls on somebody like Pansy,” Keziah snapped, looking up. “And _don’t_ compare her to me.”

“You didn’t deny it,” Draco hummed, smirking broadly.

“Just shut up, Malfoy, and leave me alone.”

Draco was quiet for less than a minute before he spoke again. “You sat next to me, you know.” There was silence again and Keziah wondering if the blonde ferret had truly shut up. “Are you upset because your friends vanished?”

She whipped around to face Draco instantly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she snarled. “It’s not like you’re the king of friends either. How much did your father pay Crabbe and Goyle to follow you again? Not that it worked; they’re not even here.”

Draco’s face twitched and she imagined for a minute that he was going to explode back at her. But he didn’t.

“I told them to do what they wanted,” he said. “They’re probably scaring pigeons outside. It feels strange now, having them around. I just keep thinking about what you said on the train.”

“What do you mean?” Keziah asked, calming down a bit. She swivelled around with difficulty, folding her right leg under her left one, in the closest thing she could get to crossing them.

“That speech you gave on the train,” Draco elaborated. “And when you yelled at me on Monday. It’s so weird.”

He stared at the fire, the orange flames reflecting in his grey eyes. The barrier that had stopped the talking was crumbling in seconds.

“I was going to call her a mudblood yesterday,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Seeing Draco, who was all bells and whistles, so quiet and almost vulnerable was strange as it always was. _“_ It was on the tip of my tongue. But then I looked at you I couldn't say it.

“I’ve known who I am my whole life. But then you come along, la dee da, and just break it down. Nott’s family is one of the most famous pure-blood families and you got him endorsing Muggles. Slytherin’s built its reputation for years and years, yet it only takes you and your friends to get them listening to Muggle music and using Muggle things and all I can ask is why?”

“Why?” Keziah laughed bitterly. “I’m Harry Potter’s sister and for most people, that’s my full name. I’m just a footnote in his legacy! If I can’t get noticed by saving the world, the best thing I can do is change it.”

They were quiet for a bit, each lost in their own thoughts. It was strangely comforting, talking to Draco. He was still the biggest prick Keziah had ever had the displeasure to meet, but she felt like she had made progress, however small.

“What is he doing?” Draco scoffed suddenly. His voice was back to its normal capacity, filled with scorn and spite.

Keziah swivelled around to look at whoever he was talking about. Then she saw the boy. He was a third-year, she was sure of that, and he was sitting by the largest window in the common room, apparently communicating with one of the merfolk.

“Let’s go ask him,” she suggested.

Draco started spluttering and she rolled her eyes.

“We’ve spent too much time sitting in our misery. Besides, isn’t it good to acknowledge our housemates?”

“Not really,” Draco began to say when Keziah shoved him off the chair before getting up herself. “What was that for?”

“Come on, Draco,” she said resolutely. “Let’s stop being two depressed fucks and go make some friends.”

She didn’t wait for his answer before swiftly crossing the room.

“Excuse me,” she said awkwardly.

The boy didn’t turn around. He just kept waving his hands around as the merperson signalled back.

“Look: he’s ignoring us,” said Draco quickly. “Let’s go!”

“Hold on,” said Keziah.

She watched the boy for a few more minutes but it wasn’t until his shoulders started shaking in laughter, but no sound came out, that she realised what was going on.

“I think he’s deaf,” she said. “Or just mute and ignoring us.”

Keziah saw the sneer that was about to show itself onto Draco’s face after her words and she stopped him with a glower. “Don’t.”

She said it so loudly that even the merperson noticed. Its slitted eyes focused on the bickering pair and they watched as it shrieked and disappeared into the murky gloom. The boy turned around to see who had disturbed him.

Keziah waved awkwardly and moved forward.

“Erm... hello?” she said, trying to remember whatever sign-language she could.

The boy smiled at her attempt. He reached into his pockets and pulled out his wand. Instead of holding it like most held pencils, he grasped it tightly with two hands and closed his hands. To Keziah and Draco’s astonishment, the wand glowed faintly and so did the boy’s fingertips.

Then, as he began to sign, the words appeared under his hands like subtitles.

“Hi, my name’s Ayman,” the words read. “I know who you are, of course — Keziah Potter and Draco Malfoy, with his famous speeches.”

“Excuse me?” Draco squawked.

Keziah wondered if Ayman understood what Draco had said and was about to translate when she saw the boy’s amused face.

“I might not hear you, but my brother fills me in,” he signed, eyes twinkling with mirth. “You like to talk, don’t you?”

Draco spluttered while Ayman turned towards Keziah.

“I’m glad I can finally tell you how excited I was about your tuckshop,” he continued. “Considering I’m deaf, mute and a muggle-born, there isn’t much for me to enjoy in Slytherin. But your little shop just made my week.”

Keziah felt herself blushing under the praise. She quickly signed her thanks, too pleased to acknowledge Draco’s sudden grimace at the announcement of Ayman’s blood status, before she remembered what she had come over for.

“What were you doing before we came over here?” she asked.

“Talking to the merpeople,” signed Ayman promptly. “They’re some of my best friends here and they’re actually quite nice once you talk to them. Just don’t ask them for dating advice.”

He glanced back at the green windows, squinting through the deep.

“Why would you want to talk to the merfolk?” Draco sneered.

Keziah elbowed him sharply.

“It’s not like he can hear me,” he muttered, rubbing his arm.

“That’s not the point,” Keziah replied.

Ayman turned back around. “The merfolk are so misunderstood. I think they’re just sad that their lake got ruined by builders and now they have a big castle in the middle of it. It took me ages to get them to stay long enough to teach sign language.”

“Hw long did it take?” Keziah asked.

“Most of my first and second year,” Ayman explained. “I mean, getting them to stay put long enough to sign took nearly three months by itself.” He broke out into his silent laughter and Keziah couldn’t help but feel like it was almost nicer than regular laughter. All his features were alight with joy as he clutched his ribs.

“Could you teach me?” she asked suddenly, the desire coming on just as she spoke the words. “To talk to the mermaids.”

For half a second, Keziah thought she had said the wrong words as Ayman’s jaw dropped. Then he beamed, bright as the sun itself, and clapped his hands eagerly.

“I would love to!” he signed so fast that his hands nearly blurred. “I’d never think anybody else would want to learn. I could teach you some now?”

Keziah sat down across from Ayman and looked back at Draco. He was unreadable.

“You joining us?” she asked.

He hesitated for a moment but Keziah’s hope fell as his face twisted into a sneer.

“As if,” he jeered, stalking off to his chair.

Keziah apologised to Ayman, who shook his head.

“I’m used to people like him. It’s fine.”

For the next couple of hours, Keziah sat with Ayman as he taught her the basics of sign language. It mostly consisted of his signing something and her copying with minimal success. However, to Keziah’s credit, she had the alphabet nearly down and could confidently sign her name and Ayman’s. Plus, the boy’s grin every time she got one right was a plus.

They were interrupted by Astoria Greengrass. Keziah felt slightly bad when she saw the girl approaching. She had barely talked to her along the week, despite the two of them being rather amicable during the summer.

“What’s the matter, Astoria?”

Astoria made a noise at the back of her throat, clearing nervous about something or the other. “Would you mind walking the grounds with me?” she asked. Keziah was confused about the request but she didn’t refuse it.

Waving goodbye to Ayman, the two girls set off. As she walked alongside the younger Greengrass, Keziah marvelled at how similar the two were. Apart from Astoria’s much shorter and darker hair, the sisters were identical, even in height. And, no, it definitely didn’t bother Keziah that a first-year was the same height as her. Not at all.

“Why did you want to go on a walk?” she asked.

Astoria made another noise. “I just... felt like it?” she said in the highest-pitch voice Keziah had ever heard. Keziah glanced at Astoria sceptically but didn’t push it. She wondered if the girl’s strange behaviour had to do with her friends’ absence the whole day. Knowing them, it probably did.

Still, she kept quiet, apart from humming the riff to Smoke on the Water. Astoria stared at her as she did.

“What are you humming?”

“One of the Muggle songs somebody was playing in the common room,” said Keziah vaguely.

“I got that.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as Daphne when I ask her things. What’s the song’s name?”

“Smoke on the Water... Deep Purple, I think.”

“Oh, okay.”

They fell back into an awkward silence as Keziah raked her brain for things to say.

“How are you finding Hogwarts?” she said in the end.

To her surprise, Astoria just shrugged. “It’s fine, I suppose.”

“What do you mean? Is something the matter?”

“I mean, some of my classmates are gits, but what’s new?” said Astoria quietly. She scratched the back of her neck with a frown. “Classes are decent.”

“But...” Keziah pressed.

“I’m good, Keziah,” said Astoria stubbornly. “You don’t need to worry about me. Daphne does it enough.”

“If you’re sure,” Keziah relented, side-eyeing the other girl. “I bet you like the library.”

Astoria relaxed instantly and nodded. “It’s brilliant. Shame there’s no Muggle literature, though. In fact, there’s barely any fiction. I had Mum send over half my books at home yesterday. Right now I’m reading the Hobbit...”

Then she was off, chattering excitedly about the Hobbit as Keziah smiled and nodded. It was always lovely to see Daphne or Astoria talk about whatever book they were reading. Despite having no intention to read it herself, Keziah would sit and listen as they painted a picture of the characters and plot.

Astoria didn’t stop talking until they’d reached the Hogwarts lawn, where she went mysteriously silent, suddenly choking up again.

“Astoria, you okay?”

“Yep,” she replied in that same high-pitched voice.

Side-eyeing Astoria again, the girls walked slowly across the grass. It was around five o’clock and the sun had started to climb down very slowly. In the gentle warmth, the whole world felt at peace. Keziah breathed in the smell of nature with a grin.

“Whatever reason you dragged me down here,” she said, “I’m glad you did.”

Astoria smiled softly, tugging her hair over her face.

As they got closer to the beech tree that hung over the Black Lake, Keziah noticed that several people stood by it, with colourful banners and blankets splayed around the trunk.

“What’s going on?” she asked slowly but Astoria just shrugged.

Her question was finally answered, however, as Daphne came speeding up to them. Her hair was in her special pink ribbons that the girl had insisted was only for special occasions. She was wearing a dress too, a yellow one decorated with tulips.

“You’re finally here!” she said excitedly. “I thought Stori had sent you the wrong way.”

“I would never!” Astoria huffed.

“Whatever,” Daphne laughed. “Now come on, everybody’s waiting!”

By everybody, Keziah was shocked to see that it was _everybody_. All her Slytherin classmates were waiting, and so was Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was bizarre seeing Draco and the Gryffindors within six feet of each other without a murder taking place, but that was happening.

There was also a large green cake on the blanket, dotted with bright candles glowing blue, surrounded by bowls of sweets and snacks and bottles of butterbeer and pumpkin juice alike.

As soon as she came within earshot, Keziah’s ears were assaulted with everybody yelling ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’

It shocked her stock-still.

“What?”

Suddenly Blaise groaned, moving forward to rustle her hair. “Keziah, please don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday.”

“I told you she didn’t have a clue,” Draco sneered.

Keziah fell onto the blanket, still processing.

“How did you manage all this?”

Daphne looked thrilled at the question. “I’m glad you asked. We’ve been planning this all week. If you think my best friend isn’t going to become a teenager in style, you’re sorely mistaken, good sir. I got some of the elves in the kitchen to bake your cake — by the way, Weasley’s recipe is amazing — and bring to us about half an hour ago. Granger did the funny blue candles. We were going to do this in the Common Room but some people —” Daphne paused to throw Draco and Pansy annoyed glares, “— got angry about Gryffindors being in there. But I’m glad we did it out here. It’s so much nicer.”

Keziah couldn’t stop grinning as Daphne talked. Then Blaise took over as she paused for breath.

“Theo and I got all the blankets and sweets. I don’t know how Millie and Lily got the drinks but they did.”

“I painted the banners,” said Pansy proudly and Theo rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, after three days of begging. And promising you got a quarter of the cake.”

“We got Malfoy to keep you busy and make sure you kept away from here,” said Astoria. “And I made sure he didn’t slack off.”

There was a round of giggles at that.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Keziah said, once she’d stopped laughing. “I just have one more question... How come Draco hasn’t been murdered by Harry, Ron and Hermione yet?”

“Daphne made us hold a truce,” said Harry. “She threatened to have us do an Unbreakable Vow over it. She’s scary.”

Daphne smiled sweetly. “I know.”

With that, the festivities began. Lily Moon had taken the record player from the common room, which meant the sounds of Freddie Mercury and Diana Ross echoed around the grounds. Despite Draco and Pansy making it very clear they were only there because Daphne forced them, it was rather fun.

“So you’re finally thirteen,” said Harry as they threw pumpkin pasties to the Giant Squid.

“And you’re barely an ickle twelve-year-old,” Keziah cackled in a mock-baby voice.

Harry scowled and shoved her gently. “You’re so rude.”

“I’m a Slytherin, what did you expect?” she smirked.

She looked back at the party. Theo was talking very seriously to Hermione, his hands moving quickly as he spoke, which indicated it was probably about something academic. Blaise was giving Daphne a piggy-back, racing around as Daphne shrieked excitedly. Astoria was talking to Ron about something or the other. Crabbe and Goyle were pigging out on the snacks as usual. What was unusual was that Goyle was shyly giving Lily Moon one of the Chocolate Frog cards.

“This is nice,” she sighed.

“Who would have thought?” said Harry. “Gryffindors and Slytherins getting along.”

“It’s not impossible, you know,” Keziah reminded him.

As the sun began to set, they all gathered around the cake for Keziah to blow it out. Blaise withdrew Colin’s camera, explaining he’d borrowed it from the boy yesterday. She blew out the candles to the sounds of clicking and chatter, surrounded by some of her best friends in both worlds, and Keziah wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Did you make a wish?” asked Hermione.

Keziah nodded with a smile. “I wished for things to stay like this forever.”

Blaise mimed vomiting. “Keziah, I never took you for a sentimental.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

After that, the others slowly left once the cake was finished, until it was just Blaise, Theo, Daphne and the Gryffindors.

Ron and Hermione handed her packages of sweets and headed up to the castle together after a bit. Then Harry gave her a tight hug and handed her a poorly wrapped gift. She tore open the snitch-patterned wrapping to find a bright green and silver scarf. The knitting was quite messy but Keziah thought it was the best thing she’d ever seen.

“I made it myself,” said Harry. “Well, Mrs Weasley helped a bit.”

“I love it,” Keziah whispered, hugging him again.

“I’m going to head up now.”

Harry waved to Daphne and the boys before racing to catch up with Ron and Hermione.

“Did we do a good job then?” Theo asked, giving one of his rare smiles.

“You did the best job,” she replied. “Do you want to go up to the hills to watch the sunset?”

There was unanimous agreement so they gathered up all the empty sweets wrappings, tying them into a bag fashioned by the blankets. Depositing it by the castle doors, they walked up to one of the taller hills. Since Keziah found it a bit difficult to walk up, Theo offered to give her a piggy-back to the summit, which she gladly obliged.

“Am I getting a gift from you lot?” Keziah asked after the sky faded to dark blue. “Or was the party my present?”

“Of course not,” Blaise snorted. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a book. “It’s a book full of cool spells and potions they never teach us in class. I thought you might like to practise some of these. Just not on me.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Keziah smiled.

Theo went next. “Since you think wizarding music is just Celestina Warbeck and the Weird Sisters, I got you some records of some other magical bands. I think there’s some by Witching Hour and there’s definitely one by Margot Babeth. The records are back in the common room.”

“I’m glad you want to share your culture with me,” Keziah smiled. “Daphne?”

“I know that the Dursleys don’t give you the best things, so I got you some stuff,” said her friend nervously, handing over a large parcel as well as a shoebox.

Keziah carefully ripped away the wrapping to reveal several items of muggle clothing. She could see a short-sleeve button-up and a pair of denim overalls among them. Opening the shoebox, she saw a pair of black and white wingtip shoes.

“They’re all great,” she said. “You’re the best. All of you.”

“Stop before I tear up,” Theo said deadpan.

“I wouldn’t want to make you emote,” said Keziah, poking his side.

“We should probably get down before we catch our deaths,” Daphne interrupted, shivering.

“Right,” the other three chorused.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rolls in after a month with a 4.7k chapter and a Monster*

“Nine, ten, eleven,” Theo counted, fiddling with the galleons under the table.

The Potions classroom was full of multicoloured mist as the students attempted to brew a Strengthening Solution without choking on the fumes. However, since Keziah and Theo had finished, they were recounting the galleons gained from their Muggle tuckshop.

Since its first session, the business became a complete hit. Every week, Ms Walsh sent a package containing books and sweets and stationery and before the next one came, almost everything would sell out. It was brilliant. Despite the frosty welcome, it was incredible to see the Slytherin students use and appreciate Muggle culture.

“I thought you were mad when this started, you know,” Theo whispered as Snape swept by, hurriedly hiding the pouch under his sleeves. “But considering how much people will pay...”

“So Muggles aren’t that bad?” Keziah asked hopefully.

“I didn’t say that,” Theo rolled his eyes. “Just because I made peace with Granger doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind. All I’m saying is this business of yours isn’t the flop I thought it would be.”

Keziah smiled. There was no point arguing with Theo because it would just result in them both blowing up, which wouldn’t help anybody.

They had to stop speaking again as Snape loomed over them, glaring nastily as he observed their cauldrons.

“Nott, Potter, I’m assuming you’re done?” he asked.

“Yes, Professor,” Theo said quickly. “We finished a few minutes ago.”

Snape didn’t say anything as he reviewed the bubbling potions. Without a word, he swept away, muttering something about Slytherin getting a few more points. The friends grinned at each other.

“You’d think he’d be pleased,” Theo said. “Malfoy gets twice as much praise for half the effort. What about us?”

“You forgot that I’m a Potter and Snape wouldn’t be caught dead praising me,” Keziah winked, her attention drawn to the next table.

Blaise and Daphne were sitting together, as they’d been since the beginning of term. It had been a bit of a shock since the girls usually sat together. However, on the first Potions lesson, Daphne bagged a seat next to Blaise on the whim of helping him, leaving Theo and Keziah to disconcertedly take the table next to them. At that moment, Blaise and Daphne had their heads bent together and they were laughing over something.

“What are they laughing at?” Keziah asked, a spike of jealously shooting through her.

Theo didn’t look bothered by the sight of them. He shrugged and started counting the coins again, letting the gold slip through his fingers. But Keziah couldn’t look away. Somewhere deep in her brain, a little voice was whispering that her reaction wasn’t quite normal, but it was buried under television static.

She only looked away when Daphne raised her head, cheeks burning at the chance her friends caught her staring.

The feeling stuck around for the rest of the lesson and Keziah nearly sighed with relief when Harry came up to her at the end of the lesson, trying to ask her something. Waving for her friends to go ahead, she turned towards him.

“What do you need?”

“Well...” he rubbed the back of his neck like he did whenever he knew she would refuse.

Smirking, Keziah turned to Ron and Hermione.

“What’s up?”

“D’you want to come to Nick’s Deathday party?” asked Ron bluntly. “It’s on Halloween.”

Keziah blinked. The name was familiar but she couldn’t remember it. “Who?”

“The ghost? Nearly Headless Nick?” Harry prompted. “He hangs around Gryffindor tower?”

“He’s having a party to celebrate his death?” Keziah raised an eyebrow. She still didn’t have a clue what they were talking about.

Harry nodded.

“You don’t have to come,” said Hermione nervously.

“I wasn’t going to,” Keziah said, feeling slightly guilty as Harry’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m not spending my Halloween with the dead. It would be like asking for something creepy to happen.”

Keziah couldn’t explain it, but her arm erupted into goosebumps even as she thought about going to the deathday party.

“That’s what I was thinking, Harry,” said Ron, waving his hand at her.

“I know,” Harry groaned. “But I promised Nick I’d come and I can’t let him down. He got me out of detention with Filch.”

“I’ve got you out of detention plenty of times. Do I get anything?” Keziah teased. “Nope!”

“It was once,” Harry rolled his eyes “in first-year.”

“Still,” Keziah said.

Since Double Potions took up the first two periods, she had a break right now. She hadn’t hung out with Harry, Ron and Hermione since before the summer and she missed it.

“I could hang out with you guys now since I’m not going to Nick’s party,” she suggested.

“That sounds great,” Hermione smiled. “How about the library?”

Harry and Ron choked, glaring at her.

“We did not agree to that,” said Ron but Hermione just rolled her eyes at him.

“You’ll survive reading a book,” she said.

“I might not, out of spite,” Ron replied with a cheeky smile.

Keziah cut Hermione off from making a snarky remark. “The library sounds fine.”

Harry shot her a look of betrayal and she blew a kiss at him.

The library was barely full. Since it was barely October, only the study-nuts were hitting the books already. Percy Weasley was in a corner, buried in a book while Oliver Wood was pestering him. Some Hufflepuffs surrounded a table, drawing up notes.

Hermione rushed to a window-side table, slamming her satchel on it just as a Ravenclaw was about to sit down. They sniffed and stalked away. Ron and Keziah looked at each other, shoving down snickers.

While Hermione pulled out a large Muggle novel and Harry and Ron began playing hangman, Keziah took out her book on Wizarding Sign Language. It was a rather interesting one and helped her along with Ayman’s lessons. It was fun, sitting by their little desk and coaxing one of the merfolk to approach the glass.

Sign Language was also surprisingly fun and easy to learn. It made Keziah question why it wasn’t taught in Hogwarts. Of course, it was rather strange that Hogwarts didn’t teach other languages in general. Keziah but considering Wizarding Elitism, she wasn’t that surprised.

“What are you reading?” Hermione asked, leaning over and breaking Keziah out of her thoughts.

Keziah explained her routine with Ayman, even showing Hermione how she finger-signed her name. Harry was concerned with other things though.

“There are mermaids in the Black Lake!” Harry exclaimed. “Like Ariel?”

Keziah and Hermione snorted in unison while Ron looked confused.

“Merfolk don’t have names like Ariel,” he said. “And, of course, they live in the lake. Apparently, my brother Charlie has seen one.”

“Ayman talks to them on a daily basis,” Keziah laughed. “It’s cool as hell.”

“Do the other Slytherins know about them?” asked Hermione and Keziah could see the girl’s mind was already running at a million miles per hour.

“Considering the merfolk bangs on the windows all the time, I think they’re aware,” she said.

“Do you think they’d be happier if more people talked to them?” asked Harry, chewing on a liquorice wand.

“Maybe.” Keziah shrugged, holding her hand out for him to pass her the sweets. “But half of my house have sticks up their arses, so I don’t think it would happen anytime soon.”

They burst into giggles, attracting Madame Pomfrey, who’s beady eyes zoned onto their sweets. In less than a minute, the children were standing outside the library as the door slammed in their face.

“What is it with Dumbledore and hiring children-hating assholes?” Ron muttered, making Hermione smack him on the back of his head.

“He’s not wrong,” Keziah smirked.

Harry snickered at Hermione’s affronted gasp. “You two are just like each other!”

“Well, us redheads have to stick together,” said Ron, holding his hand up for Keziah to give him a high-five, which she happily obliged.

“I forgot how fun you guys are,” she said afterwards.

Harry gave her a one-armed hug, when he suddenly stiffened, making a face.

“You okay, Harry?” she asked slowly.

He smiled, although it didn’t reach his spooked eyes. “Y-yeah. I just thought I heard something.”

 _Basilisk_.

The word flashed through Keziah’s mind like a cold blade cutting through the fog. She would’ve stumbled if she wasn’t gripping onto her cane.

She looked back at Harry who went back to joking with Ron about something to do with Quidditch while Hermione huffed about how the entire school was obsessed with the sport.

Despite her mind feeling like a garbage disposal full of cutlery, nothing changed. They were all laughing as her brain screeched. Keziah needed to know what was happening. She needed to know why she had forgotten about the Deathday Party and why her brain felt so weird. But she didn’t know how to contact the weird spirit lady.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her watch. Daphne had given it to her during the summer, claiming she had gotten a new one from her grandparents. It was nearly time for her next class, History of Magic.

Keziah grimaced at the idea of sitting through Binns’ droning for the next couple of hours, but at least it would give her time to sort out her thoughts.

“I’m going to go,” she said to the Gryffindors. “I’m in History of Magic and it’ll take me a while to get there.”

Harry smiled at her bemusedly but he didn’t get the chance to say anything as Keziah walked away as fast as her legs allowed.

She was on autopilot, so distracted that she didn’t realise she was by her classroom until she ran right into Daphne. They toppled over, Keziah laying across the blonde, who seemed completely at ease. The sunlight reflected against Daphne’s golden hair and Keziah felt her stomach stir.

“There you are,” said Daphne, not moving. “I was wondering where you went off to after Potions.”

“I was with Harry and his friends,” Keziah said, looking anywhere except her best friend.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to start hanging out with them lot all the time again,” Daphne sighed, blowing her fringe out of her face. “I missed you last year.”

“It was for the greater good,” Keziah reminded her.

“I’m your best friend,” said Daphne. “I’m the greatest good you’re going to get.”

Keziah laughed. “We should probably get up.”

“I find the floor quite comfy,” said Daphne. “But if you insist. Boys, a little help?”

Theo pulled her up, making sure her leg didn’t hurt.

“Merlin you’re heavy, Potter,” the boy groaned as he handed Keziah her cane.

“You say that,” she snorted, “but all I hear is that you’re a scrawny, unfit git.”

“Bugger off,” he snapped fondly.

Their banter was interrupted by Binn’s vacuum-cleaner voice calling the children in. Theo’s studying stint had faded away now that he’d relaxed back into the Hogwarts environment, which meant he’d gone back to sitting at the back with his friends.

Thanks to Blaise’s quick-quotes quill, they didn’t have to pay attention, much to the envy of their other classmates.

“I’ll show you my notes if you ask nicely,” Keziah explained to Pansy for the hundredth time. The girl pulled a face and went back to her own parchment.

“These pens are cool,” said Blaise, furiously clicking a pen that he’d borrowed from Daphne, the sound echoing in the quiet classroom.

Millicent glared at them from her seat but Blaise didn’t stop, still in awe of the little Muggle contraption.

“They’re not that great,” Theo said sourly, glaring at his quill as though it had offended him.

“Get over yourself, Theo,” Daphne rolled her eyes. She was holding a bright pink pen with a very fluffy top and little yellow spirals. It was the sort which most little girls had, ever infuriated with how little ink the thing produced.

“D’you ever wonder why Binns teaches us History?” Keziah asked, changing the subject. “I mean, think of how many historians decided to drop this subject because of his teaching.”

Blaise chewed the back of his pen, as though thinking it over.

“It’s the same with Snape, isn’t it?” he replied. “You’re brilliant at Potions, but since Snape is an arse, you don’t like it.”

“Merlin,” Daphne breathed. “Dumbledore should seriously consider who he hires.”

“As if Lockhart isn’t enough proof of that,” Theo snorted.

“I mean, he’s over a hundred years old,” said Keziah. “It would be more surprising if he wasn’t completely batty.”

“There should be a law,” said Theo. “You can only work until a certain age.”

“I’m pretty sure those are called pensions,” Daphne snickered.

“What-sions?” asked Blaise, finally distracted from his pen.

Keziah and Daphne glanced at each other with a smirk. It was one that appeared on their faces rather often, whenever Theo and Blaise were being oblivious about Muggle things.

Keziah explained the concept quickly and the boys nodded.

“Why don’t we have that here?” Theo commented.

“Dunno,” Blaise said. “It’s your dad in Wizaengamot. Ask him.”

“And get my head cursed off?” Theo snorted. “I’d rather dance naked in the Forbidden Forest.”

Keziah dissolved into laughter at Theo’s statement. There was something so fundamentally hilarious about it, that she couldn’t help it. Her giggles made Daphne and Blaise start too and eventually Theo broke down as well. Everybody in the classroom was staring at them and Binns had stopped talking; a legendary feat.

“Excuse me?” Binns said. “Miss Pennyfeather! Mr Zolton! Mr Noose! Miss Gregory! I expect you to pay attention in my classes. Detention for each of you! See me after class.”

The children stopped laughing at once, glancing at each other eyes wide.

“Is that even legal?” Blaise murmured. “For Binns to give us detention?”

“I’m just wondering if it’s even been done before,” Theo whispered, glancing up at Binns who’d resumed talking.

“Call your brother and his friends and tell him that he isn’t the only ones breaking records,” Daphne smirked.

“Am I the only one concerned that we got detention?” Keziah asked, and judging by her friend’s faces, she was.

“It’s Binns,” Theo snorted. “It’ll just be a nap for an hour or two.”

“Plus, you can’t talk,” said Daphne, poking Keziah’s side. “The only reason Lockhart hasn’t drowned you in detention for skipping is that he’s scared of you.”

Keziah rolled her eyes. “As Theo said, I’d rather dance naked in Forbidden Forest than be taught by him.”

“Is that just going to be a thing now?” Theo groaned, face-palming.

There was unanimous agreement and Theo’s head slammed into his desk as he pulled his hat over his ears.

*

That evening, when they returned to the classroom, Keziah was secretly glad for her detention. Maybe she’d be able to get a hold of the spirit and she could talk to her. Blaise and Theo complained the entire way, despite their attitude in the morning, while Daphne snapped at them, claiming it was their fault.

“What do you think, Keziah?” she asked.

Keziah looked up, blinking as though somebody had just shone a very bright light in her face.

“What did you say?”

Daphne rolled her eyes, much to Blaise and Theo’s giggles. “Never mind.”

Keziah felt a bit bad that she hadn’t listened to her friends’ conversation but her mind was in shambles.

Professor Binns was waiting for them — without another teacher, thank Merlin — and the door swung open as they approached.

“I hope you children learn your lesson tonight,” the old ghost said wheezily. “I’ll be covering what you missed in my lesson.”

The four Slytherins settled in their usual seats without bothering to get their stationary out. Their notes were sitting in the bottom of their bags, not that Binns knew that.

Within seconds, Blaise had drifted off, his head drooping onto Daphne’s back. She’d also started sleeping against her desk. Theo had taken a book out, reading it quietly and the silence soon sent Keziah into her subconscious too.

Even Keziah’s dream-self was crossing her fingers as she opened her eyes; for the first time sighing in relief at the familiar mossy castle. She was back, her bare feet cold against the stone floor.

“You called me here,” said a voice behind her.

The old lady, spirit, Great Ethereal Being person was there. She sat cross-legged, her eyes, as milky-white as ever, were wide in surprise.

“Why do you call me?” She asked. “You never have before.”

“I didn’t know I could,” Keziah muttered, her barricades already rising. “What do I call you, by the way.”

She raised a white eyebrow.

“What’s your name?” Keziah said irritably.

“It’s a name that hasn’t been spoken by Man in centuri,” She said ominously. “I wouldn’t expect you to comprehend it.”

Keziah scowled, running her hands through her newly shorn locks.

“However, you may call me Dee,” the spirit continued in a disconnected tone.

Keziah nearly laughed at the name but was rapidly silenced by a glance.

“I doubt you called me simply to find out my name,” Dee said. “So what do you want?”

Keziah took a deep breath.

“Why are you messing with my memory?” she said sharply. She waited for Dee to deny it, but the spirit just stared, her mouth a flat line.

“You interfere too much,” said Dee. Keziah tried to protest but the spirit steamrolled ahead. “I had a feeling my initial warning would not do, so I’ve taken things into my own hands. Your knowledge of the future is too much.”

“So what?” Keziah folded her arms, her eyes narrowed. “You’re going to take my memory away completely.”

She tried to sound intimidating, but panic was already rising up her throat like bile.

“No,” Dee said patronisingly. “But I’ve decided you do not need details. I was stupid to give you them in the first place.”

Keziah’s skin went icy, her fingers tightening against her biceps.

“You can’t,” she said softly.

“It is not your place to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

She could already feel the ground slipping away like sand, her atoms slowly dragging away back to the real world.

“You can’t do this,” she cried. “You can’t take my memories. How am I supposed to help Harry?”

The last thing Keziah heard was Dee’s cold words.

“You’ll manage.”

*

Keziah shot up, her eyes flying open and her head aching. Daphne screeched as her friend nearly fell out of her seat.

“Potter, get a grip,” Theo muttered from behind his book.

Keziah rubbed her face, glancing at the clock. It had been barely twenty minutes. Binns was still droning on and on.

She’d had a dream, she knew that. But she couldn’t remember what the dream was. It was completely gone, but the remnants were there, like a scab that wouldn’t stop itching.

The itchy feeling didn’t leave after that evening. It got worse, like a timebomb ticking until a moment. Keziah was acting so on edge that all her friends were picking upon.

“You’re making the merfolk nervous,” signed Ayman one evening, smiling gently. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged, scratching her arms. Her skin always felt alight since that detention.

“I don’t know,” she replied, her hands moving fairly quickly now. “I feel weird.”

He shrugged sympathetically. “I can’t help you there.”

She threw her head back, glaring at the dark ceiling. Keziah liked hanging out with Ayman. He was nice and he didn’t ask too many questions. Despite how the rest of Slytherin treated him, he was still as sweet as ever and she couldn’t help but be in awe of him.

She’d talked to Ayman’s brother too. He was a fifth-year Ravenclaw and was incredibly similar to his little brother.

Keziah liked Ayman most of all because it felt like a break. She wasn’t sure from what, but when she sat with him, it was like a breath of fresh air. From what, she had less than a clue.

As the school moved closer to Halloween, Keziah liked admiring the decorations. Flitwick’s classroom was dolled up in glistening cobwebs with fake spiders and little pumpkins guarded the doors.

“Do you think Snape will dress up like a vampire again?” Seamus Finnegan asked after one Potions lesson. Dean Thomas immediately tried to shush him, seeing as the door was barely a foot away but it was to no avail. Snape came thundering out of the door and issued the boy detention.

However, her main distraction came in the most surprising way.

Ollie and Steph were a rather amusing part of Charms. They turned out to be quite sweet and even Blaise started liking them after he stopped pouting at them every time Steph stepped too close to Daphne.

“Hey Keziah,” Ollie called after one class. He held a new Stephen King novel: Pet Sematary.

“What’s up?” she asked, trying to shove her charms book into her satchel. She knew that if she actually went through her bag and organised it, this wouldn’t be a problem, but Keziah hadn’t cleaned her bag since first-year and she was mildly scared of what was in there.

“We heard you’re a pretty good referee for Quidditch,” said Steph, glancing sideways at Ollie. “And some of us are having a friendly game. But we need somebody to ref and we don’t trust the others to be fair.”

“When is it happening?” she asked, finally jostling the bloody book into her satchel.

“After lunch,” said Ollie eagerly. “It’s a free period.”

Quickly checking her schedule to make sure she was free, Keziah nodded. She liked the boys and even if she didn’t enjoy playing quidditch, watching a game was always fun.

When Keziah hurried down to the pitch, still chewing her on her potatoes, she saw a smattering of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws waiting for her. She made a beeline towards Ollie and Steph, who was talking to a pretty girl with skin nearly as dark as Hermione, the sun catching her big glasses.

“Sorry I’m late,” Keziah gasped, bending over.

“Don’t worry,” said Ollie. “We’re still waiting for Sophie and Zach anyway.”

Keziah turned to the girl. She was wearing a Ravenclaw quidditch jersey. “I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”

“It’s fine,” the girl shrugged. “I’m Elizabeth Turpin.”

“Liz is good at sports and studies,” Steph muttered jealously. “Lucky prat.”

Liz rolled her eyes, as though this was a topic they spoke about a lot. “I’ve told you. I practise. Plus I’m not even on the team. I’m just a reserve.”

“Practise, shmacktise,” Steph said. “Just admit you’re better than everyone.”

Keziah could see Liz was pleased by Steph’s comment.

“Keziah,” said Liz, changing the subject, “do you want to meet the others?”

Keziah nodded eagerly.

Liz walked over to one of the Hufflepuff girls. Keziah recognised her from Astronomy. She was rather tall, with her long, brown hair pulled into two ponytails, a few strands framing her sun-tanned face. She was wearing proper quidditch robes and held a Nimbus 2000.

“Ally Jones,” she said brightly holding out her hand as soon as she saw the two. The girl had a strong, rough grip that made Keziah’s eyes widen.

“Nice to meet you,” Keziah smiled. “My name is —”

“I already know your name,” Ally laughed. “You’re reffing for us, right? Steph couldn’t wait to tell us.”

They didn’t have to wait long until everybody was there. Zacharias Smith was pointedly avoiding Keziah like he had been since that morning in the kitchens. Sophie Roper was rather sweet but she didn’t talk much.

However, when the game was about to start, Smith suddenly found his voice.

“Can you even ride a broom in your... condition?” he drawled. Sophie pinched his arm at his comment and Keziah felt a surge of affection towards the girl.

“Of course I can,” she snarled. “It’s just a bit difficult.”

Liz frowned. “It shouldn’t be. With an adjusted cushioning charm, it should feel just like sitting on a chair.”

Without another word, she grabbed Keziah’s broom and ran her fingers over it. After a bit of thought, she shot a charm at the broom and handed it back.

“It should be okay now,” said Liz. “I made some changes to its charms.”

Liz looked so earnest that Keziah tried the broom immediately. As she tried to get on, she was surprised at how it felt rather like getting onto a chair in class. She grinned at Liz, who ducked her head in embarrassment.

Zacharias Smith kissed his teeth at the sight, rolling his eyes. “So she can cast a charm,” he said boredly. “Big deal. Let’s get on with the game.”

Ally smiled. “Let’s.” She swung her broom, the tail end slamming into the boy’s stomach. He doubled over, thoroughly winded.

“Stop being a prick, Smith,” Steph snapped, joining Ally in the air.

Since there weren’t enough players, there were just chasers. The game was much less blood-thirsty than the Slytherin Vs Gryffindor match. The group played until Ollie’s watch buzzed, signally the start of lessons.

“That was fun,” said Ally once everybody was on the ground. “Do you want to do it again sometime?”

Keziah nodded with a smile. So it became a routine to go out onto the pitch and have games. According to Ally, one needed to enjoy quidditch until it was too cold to. According to Steph, that was just Ally’s excuse for being a fanatic.

Some days, students from other houses joined and even Harry and Ron joined a game after hearing Keziah talk about it.

All good things came to an end, though. As Halloween dawned, Keziah felt her skin prickle even more than before. Something bad was going to happen, but she couldn’t tell what.

“You’re probably just worried because of what happened last year,” said Daphne after hearing her friend’s concerns. “It’ll be fine.”

Keziah nodded, trying to calm her breathing as they got ready for the day. Thankfully, her worries faded away as time went by.

Charms, as always, was a joy and Flitwick even handed out sweets in celebration. Potions seemed even worse than usual. Snape’s glare was almost fixed on Harry and Keziah during the lesson but he didn’t say anything, for the first time in his miserable life.

The feast was brilliant. Dumbledore had pulled out all the stocks for the evening and Keziah couldn’t help but feel sorry for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Everybody else was upstairs, enjoying the sweets and the skeletons while they were stuck downstairs with a bunch of ghosts.

Her friends didn’t seem to notice her mood, too enthralled by the festivities.

“You okay?” Lily Moon asked, elbowing her gently.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Keziah muttered, nibbling a piece of chocolate. She could barely stomach the food from nerves that she couldn’t understand.

Lily Moon frowned at her but slowly looked away, going back to her conversation with Millicent Bulstrode.

The feeling didn’t even go away when they left the hall.

“Your stomach is probably hurting because all you ate was sweets,” said Daphne, looking a little tired of Keziah’s moodiness. “It will go away soon.”

“Are you... y’know... on your time of month?” Blaise asked innocently.

Daphne glared heavily at him.

“Do you even get how utterly misogynistic that —”

She was cut off as the crowd shuddered to a halt, a shocked gasp rumbling through the mass. Keziah and the others shuffled to the front, eager for a closer look.

Mrs Norris was hanging frozen from a torch bracket, the fire illuminating sickeningly red words. They were a foot high, dripping down the wall.

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened,” Daphne whispered in horror. “Enemies of the heir beware... That’s blood. It’s written in blood —”

She broke off with a cry, tightly hugging Blaise around the middle. The boy looked so disgusted by the sight before him that he didn’t even flinch at her touch.

Theo swore under his breath. “My father told me about this. I thought it was just a myth. Do you think it’s her blood?”

“I doubt it,” Blaise hissed, glaring at Theo while Daphne’s cries doubled.

Keziah, however, wasn’t focussed on the gory sight of the hallway. Instead, her eyes slid towards Draco Malfoy. Thankfully, he kept silent, but his eyes were gleaming with malice and pleasure as he grinned at the sight. It made her feel even sicker


	10. Chapter 10

As Argus Filch broke through the crowd, Keziah’s insides collapsed within each other. Her skin may’ve had a troop of army ants crawling beneath the surface and she wouldn’t have known the difference.

Distantly, she could hear the crowd slowly start whispering, many fingers pointed at the Golden Trio, standing below Mrs Norris while Filch attempted to throttle Harry. She needed to do something, her mind crowed from beyond the fog.

Tearing away from her friends, Keziah stumbled forward rather like an inferius. Given the current state of things, the connection made her shudder.

She reached her brother at the same time as the teachers.

“Miss Potter,” said Professor McGonagall in a strangled voice. “What are you doing?”

“I want to be here,” she replied fiercely, her swirling mind doubling her anger. “I’m not leaving him.”

Snape suddenly looked sick as he watched her. “She can stay, Minerva.”

McGonagall looked like she wanted to argue, brows pinched in worry but Dumbledore beat her to it.

“It is fine, Minerva,” he said gravely, adjusting his half-moon glasses to look at Mrs Norris. “Come with me, Argus. Children, you too.”

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. Keziah wrinkled her nose at him, but apart from a reproachful glance from McGonagall, nobody noticed.

“My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free—”

The crowd stepped aside like the red sea to let them pass. Theo looked like he wanted to say something as Keziah walked by but he bit his tongue.

Stepping into Lockhart’s classroom, there was a flurry of movement that made Keziah’s stomach roll. Several of Lockhart’s portraits rushed out of frame, rollers in their hair. The real Lockhart lit up the room with a flick. Dumbledore laid Mrs Norris’s petrified body across the desk.

Keziah blinked at the adjective her brain had conjured up. Where had ‘petrified’ come from?

Biting the inside of her cheek, she joined Harry, Ron and Hermione in the chairs outside the pools of candlelight.

Harry glanced at her tensely but Keziah couldn’t even look at him without her brain hurting. She needed to talk to Madam Pomfrey but how could she do so without sounding crazy.

Trying to halt her thoughts, Keziah focused on the professors. Dumbledore was barely an inch away from Mrs Norris’s scratchy fur, poking and prodding the poor creature while McGonagall leaned in just as closely. Snape stood in the shadow nearly smiling.

Lockhart hovered around the group, throwing out the least helpful advice Keziah had ever had the misfortune to hear.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her..."

His comments were punctuated by Filch’s racking sobs. The old man was doubled over in grief, and Keziah felt horrible. She couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault this had happened at all.

“...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once...”

Her fists clenched at the man’s words. He looked so joyful despite the sombre atmosphere choking the office. Her blood boiled with fury towards the sorry excuse for a wizard.

It was worse since all of Lockhart’s portraits were murmuring in agreement. One of them was still wearing a hairnet.

Finally, Dumbledore straightened.

“He’s not dead, Argus,” he said softly.

Harry sagged beside her, exhaling in relief. Lockhart was stunned, perhaps because he was interrupted in the middle of recounting how many murders he solved.

“Not dead?” choked Filch, looking through his fingers at his cat. “But why’s she all... all stiff and frozen?”

“She has been Petrified,” said Dumbledore (“Ah! I thought so!” said Lockhart). “But how, I cannot say...”

“Ask him!” shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

Keziah stood up. “Leave him alone! Harry did nothing!”

Snape’s eyes narrowed maliciously, his lips curling.

“Were you present, Miss Potter?” he asked quietly. “Or do you know something we don’t?”

“Leave her alone, Severus,” said Dumbledore. “No second-year could have done something like this. It would take dark magic of the most advanced —”

“He did it! He did it!” Filch screeched, purpling. “You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found in... He knows I’m a... I’m a...” Filch’s face worked horribly. “He knows I’m a squid!” he finished.

“He didn’t do it!” Keziah yelled.

“I didn’t touch Mrs Norris!” Harry said hotly at the same time, standing up. He looked uncomfortable as everybody looked at him. “I don’t even know what a squib is!”

“Rubbish,” Filch squawked. “He saw my Kwikspell letter.”

“If I may speak, Headmaster,” said Snape silkily. Keziah bit back the urge to say ‘ _No you may not_.’

“Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. “But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast? And Miss Potter seems rather self-assured for somebody who wasn’t involved in this incident.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione exploded into explanations all at once, their clashing voices hurting Keziah’s ears.

However, Snape continued to press, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. Harry gave stammered explanations but it seemed like he was lying through his teeth. Keziah glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head subtly; _Not here_.

“I suggest, Headmaster,” said Snape, smiling like a creepy Cheshire cat, “that Potter is not being entirely truthful. It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready, to be honest. And I could gladly hold Miss Potter to detention until she learns to hold her tongue.”

“Really, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall sharply, “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter —or Miss Potter for that matter — has done anything wrong!”

Dumbledore stared at the children and Keziah shuddered. She felt like she was being processed by an invisible scanner.

“Innocent until proven guilty,” he said firmly.

Snape and Filch looked livid.

“My cat has been petrified!” Filch cried, his eyes bugged out. “I demand some sort of punishment!”

“We will be able to cure her, Argus,” said Dumbledore patiently. “Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs Norris.”

“I’ll make it,” Lockhart butted in enthusiastically. “I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep —”

“I believe I am the Potions Master at this school,” Snape said icily.

Lockhart was spooked into silence, leaving a very awkward pause. Keziah wanted to grin at Harry but she didn’t dare move.

“You may go,” said Dumbledore, nodding at the children. Keziah made to follow but she stopped as Dumbledore continued. “Not you, Miss Potter,” he said. “I need to ask you something.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood at the door, unsure if they should leave. Keziah nodded at them before nervously turning round.

“Yes, Professor?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“If you have anything to tell us, you would, correct?” Dumbledore asked. His voice was quiet enough that the other teachers didn’t hear.

“Of course,” she nodded, feeling strangely like she was lying.

Dumbledore kept looking at her, his twinkling blue eyes like an x-ray.

“Have a nice evening, Miss Potter,” he sighed after a bit.

Trying to act like she wasn’t running, Keziah rushed out of the room, surprised that the Gryffindors were waiting for her. As soon as they saw her, they motioned for her to follow them.

Once they were a floor up, the children turned into an empty classroom and closed the door behind them, checking for any stray ghosts or portraits.

“Thanks for waiting,” Keziah breathed.

“No problem,” said Harry. “I heard the voice again.”

“What?” she hissed, moving forward so she could see his face through the darkness.

“That’s why we were up there,” Harry explained. “We were following it.”

“Do you think that’s what petrified Mrs Norris?” she asked, although she supposed that they all knew the answer.

“D’you think I should’ve told them?” asked Harry after the silence stretched on for a bit too long. “About the voice?”

“No,” said Ron, without hesitation. “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.”

“You do believe me?” Harry said slowly staring reproachfully at the other three.

“Of course,” they all said instantly.

“You’ve gotta admit though...” said Ron. “It’s kind of weird.”

“I know it's weird,” said Harry. “The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened ... What's that supposed to mean?”

“Apparently, it’s a myth,” said Keziah darkly, her arms erupting with goose pimples. “Slytherin legend. Theo’s dad told him about it. I need to ask him.”

“You know, it rings a sort of bell,” said Ron slowly. “I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once... might've been Bill...”

“And what on earth's a Squib?” said Harry.

To his surprise, Ron stifled a snigger.

“Well - it's not funny really - but as it's Filch,” he said. “A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much.” Ron gave a satisfied smile. “He's bitter.”

“Then why’s he working in a magical school?” Keziah scoffed. “A wizard could do twice the work in half the time. It’s just making him more miserable.”

Ron shrugged.

A clock chimed somewhere.

“Midnight,” said Harry. “We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else.”

The Slytherin common room was bustling when Keziah entered it. It was packed to the brim, several people attacking Salazar’s portraits for answers while others talked. Some people were wearing self-satisfied smirks but most looked sick.

When Keziah joined her friends, she saw Theo with his head in his hands. Blaise had his arm around Daphne who looked lost in thought, although she jolted out of it when she saw her friend.

“What did Dumbledore say?” she asked urgently. “What’s going on?”

“It was a petrification,” said Keziah miserably. “Dark magic.”

Theo swore, getting up and sweeping into the dorms.

“My mum told me about the Chamber of Secrets,” said Blaise after a bit. “I was being stupid and she told me all about it to shut me up. I couldn’t sleep for weeks. I read a bit about it in Hogwarts: A History. Apparently, when Hogwarts was first founded, Salazar got into a spat with the others over whether Muggle-borns should be allowed in or not. You could kind of understand what he was getting at — witches were being prosecuted all over England. It made sense not to let Muggles know about us.”

He glanced at Keziah, making sure she wasn’t annoyed about the anti-Muggle sentiment but she gestured for him to go on.

“The fighting got so bad that Slytherin left the school. But before he did, he created some sort of secret chamber to protect Hogwarts from people unworthy of studying magic, with a monster inside that could only be controlled by him and his descendants.”

“That sounds horrible,” Daphne blanched. “Do you think it’s true? Is that what’s happening?”

“Knowing Hogwarts, probably,” Keziah groaned. “But how come nobody’s found it so far?”

“Somebody did,” said Blaise ominously. The girls sat up straight, staring at him with wide eyes. “My grandmother went to Hogwarts around fifty years ago and she said that it was opened while she was in school! A girl died from it.”

“And you’ve never told us about it?” Keziah said quietly.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Blaise murmured uncomfortably. “But I swear I’m telling the truth. Theo’s dad probably told him the same story.”

“Maybe it’s just a prank,” said Daphne, eyes focused on the ceiling as though in prayer.

“Maybe,” said Keziah, rubbing her arms again.

*

The next few days were filled with nothing but discussions of the attack. Filch kept it fresh in everybody’s minds as he stalked back and forth in the corridor where Mrs Norris hung, the bloody message shining in the sunlight. No matter what Filch used to try and get rid of it, the message stuck as a gory reminder.

When he wasn’t guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like “breathing loudly” and “looking happy.”

Keziah felt awful for the man and surprisingly, so did Theo. He’d been in a foul mood since the attack, snapping at people almost as much as Filch. He didn’t offer any explanation for his behaviour and his friends weren’t going to push, if only for a fear of being hexed.

Draco, on the other hand, couldn’t have looked more pleased. He walked around like a peacock, preening and smirking. Keziah felt the urge to curse him more than once a day but generally, Daphne pulled her back.

“It isn’t worth it,” she’d whisper in Keziah’s ear, making her freeze up and let Draco go.

The teachers also looked on edge but nobody was mentioning anything.

There were also more whispers popping up. Keziah would occasionally be walking down the corridor and have somebody skirt out of her way, looking at her strangely before looking away just as quickly.

Everything was so crazy that she didn’t even get the opportunity to speak to Harry again until she bumped into them as they were leaving History of Magic. The others were down by the greenhouses, which meant she leapt at the chance for some company.

“Hey, you lot,” she said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice.

“We found out about the Chamber of Secrets,” said Ron excitedly. “It was —”

“I wanted to tell you about that,” Keziah nodded. “Some kids in my house told me about it.”

“I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony,” Ron scowled. “But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I’d’ve got the train straight back home... er... sorry, Keziah.”

He broke off as he realised Keziah was with them, looking nervous.

“Personally, I think Salazar was within his rights _at the time_ ,” she said sniffily. “Wizards were being burned left and right, Of course, he didn’t want them anywhere near magic. It doesn’t justify what people believe today but you also shouldn’t judge my house without knowing the context. Not everybody is like Draco.”

All three of the Gryffindors were mildly ashamed after her admonishments.

As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevey went past. Keziah held her hand up for a high-five, and her face dropped as the tiny boy swerved around it, although he looked excited as ever.

“Alright, Harry?” he squeaked. “Keziah?”

“Hullo, Colin,” said Harry robotically.

“Harry - Keziah - a boy in my class has been saying you guys are —”

But Colin was too small to fight against the flow of people and was swept along, pushed towards the Great Hall. They heard him squeak something and then he was gone.

“What’s a boy in his class saying about you?” Hermione wondered, still looking at where Colin went.

“Probably that we set the Monster of Slytherin on Mrs Norris,” said Keziah sourly, making a first-year squeal as she pulled a grotesque face. All the people acting strangely around her suddenly made sense but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“People here’ll believe anything,” Ron said in disgust as they turned into an empty corridor. Keziah breathed in relief. It had been extra difficult to manoeuvre her cane in the crowd; she was rather sure she’d stayed upright simply because of how packed the corridor had been.

“D’you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?” Ron asked Hermione and Keziah

“I don’t know,” the Gryffindor girl said, frowning. “Dumbledore couldn’t cure Mrs Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human.”

“I think it’s real,” said Keziah firmly. The other three stared at her like she’d grown an extra head. “According to some kids, it was opened fifty years ago too and a girl died! Who’s to say she isn’t still around as a ghost?”

As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the corridor where the attack happened. Filch wasn’t there anymore, but his chair was backed against the wall, underneath the message. It was as bright as ever. Despite there being no wind, Keziah shivered.

The children looked at each other and back at the deserted corridor.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Harry, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues. Keziah followed along leisurely, her eyes tracing the piping that ran through the ceiling.

“Scorch marks!” her brother said. “Here - and here —”

“Come and look at this!” said Hermione. “This is funny...”

She was standing by the window next to the message on the wall, pointing at the topmost pane. Keziah craned her neck to stare at a group of spiders scuttling, almost fighting to get through the crack. It was almost funny if it didn’t send her into goosebumps again. Once again, she considered visiting Madam Pomfrey.

“Have you ever seen spiders act like that?” said Hermione.

“Maybe they’re running from Filch?” Keziah laughed, although the others didn’t. She turned around to see Ron stood well back, fighting the impulse to run.

“Ron? You okay?” she asked. Her comment attracted Harry and Hermione’s attention.

“What’s up, mate?” said Harry.

“I - don’t - like - spiders,” said Ron through gritted teeth.

“I never knew that,” said Hermione, her eyebrows raised. “You've used spiders in Potions loads of times...”

“I don’t mind them dead,” said Ron snappishly, looking anywhere but the window. “I just don’t like the way they move...”

Hermione giggled.

“It’s not funny!” Ron said fiercely. “If you must know when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick... You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and...”

He broke of shuddering. Hermione was obviously trying not to laugh but Keziah had stopped paying attention to the story halfway through. She’d caught sight of a door. While the others talked, she wandering up to it.

Squinting at the brass plaque, she saw it was the infamous girl’s bathroom where Moaning Myrtle lived. It was a depressing little place that nobody stepped foot in unless they were truly desperate and then some. Keziah had only had to use it once and the ghost hadn’t been in. However, since then, Myrtle had had such a huge strop that the bathroom was permanently closed off.

Harry and his friends had also come over by now.

“This is where the water came from,” said Ron, his hand about to twist the knob when he saw the plaque and jumped back as though burned. Keziah snickered. “We can’t go in there. It’s a girl’s toilet.”

“Oh, Ron, nobody’s going to be in there,” said Hermione dismissively. “That’s Moaning Myrtle’s place. C’mon, let’s have a look.”

Despite Harry and Ron’s protests, Hermione dragged them both inside and Keziah brought up the rear.

The place had gotten even gloomier since Keziah had first seen it. There was a mirror in the centre, mould-ridden and cracked. The sinks underneath were just as bad, a slow drip coming from the last one. The floor was damp enough to make Keziah nervous and the wooden doors were scratched; one was even wrenched off its hinges.

“First class,” Keziah muttered sarcastically.

At her words, there came a long shriek as a ghost rose high above the last stall. She glared at the newcomers, eyes narrowed at Harry and Ron.

“This is a girls’ bathroom,” she hissed. “They’re not girls.”

“We just came to ask you some questions,” Keziah said hurriedly. Suddenly, Myrtle stopped her dramatics, raising a pale eyebrow.

“Go on,” she said. “I’m rather busy, you know.”

“Are you?” Ron was about to say before Hermione stepped on his foot.

“Well...” said Keziah, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves. The Golden Trio looked at her expectantly. “What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?”

She stepped back, waiting for the onflow of sobs but it never came. Hopefully opening one eye, she saw the ghost deep in thought.

“Myrtle?” Keziah prompted.

“It was how I died,” said Myrtle, sounding morbidly pleased. “At least I think so.”

Hermione’s eyes went as wide as Galleons.

“Go on,” pressed Keziah.

“It had been happening all year,” said Myrtle mournfully. “Attacks left and right. Professor Dippet was about to close the school with all the muggleborns getting petrified. We never found out who did it, at least I didn’t.”

Her expression changed to one of relish while Hermione looked horrified.

“It was dreadful,” she grinned. “It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —”

She swelled, looking at their apprehensive faces with pride.

“I died,” she finished simply.

“How?” said Hermione, sounding sick.

“No idea,” said Myrtle in hushed tones. “I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away...” She looked dreamily at Harry. “And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses.”

“Where did you see the eyes?” asked Keziah. Myrtle’s story sounded ridiculously familiar. She felt like she was in an exam where the answer was dangling just out of reach, mocking her.

Myrtle gestured vaguely to the sink opposite her toilet.

To the childrens’ dismay, it was an ordinary sink, all the way down to its rusty piping.

“Is that all?” Harry asked.

Myrtle nodded, going back to picking at her spot.

“You didn’t see anything near your door on Halloween?” said Hermione, crossing her arms.

Myrtle’s mood deflated like a balloon.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” she said dramatically. “Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I’m - that I’m —”

“Already dead,” said Ron helpfully.

Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water nearly a foot high. It very nearly hit them and Keziah was grateful it didn’t. She would’ve burned her robes if it did.

Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, “Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle... Come on, let’s go.”

“Have a nice day, Myrtle,” called Keziah awkwardly.

Her response was more noisy tears as they eased the door shut. No sooner than that, a loud voice made all four of them jump.

“RON!”

Percy Weasley was standing at the foot of the stairs, his prefect badge gleaming in the light. He looked utterly shocked as he thundered towards them.

Glancing at the three Gryffindors, Keziah bit her lip.

“I’m just gonna...” she whispered, scooting away.

Thankfully, Percy was too worked up to notice her leave.

When she got to dinner, most of the hall was empty but Daphne, Blaise and Theo were thankfully still there at the end of the table.

“Keziah!” Theo called, patting the seat next to him.

She sat down and immediately filled them in on what had happened in the bathroom.

“You can’t be serious,” said Daphne in a hushed voice as they made their way to the dungeons. “So it’s real?”

“I can’t believe it,” Theo murmured. “My dad thinks it’s a good thing.”

Keziah, Daphne and Blaise turned to stare at Theo.

“I don’t agree with him!”

“Is the Chamber even open?” asked Blaise. “Maybe somebody just heard of it and tried to pull something. I’ve heard some shady stuff about Lucrecia Selwyn.”

The girl in question, a stout seventh-year with a penchant for hexes, stalked by them at that moment, twisting her wand with a glare. Blaise gulped and hid behind Daphne until Hattie turned the corridor.

“What a knight,” said Daphne with a smirk, trying to hide her pink cheeks.

“We can’t just go assigning blame to anybody,” said Keziah. “First, we should find out what’s actually going on.”

Theo nodded, pausing to give the password (Felicis) before continuing. “Wait until the next attack. We don’t know if this is something serious or a genuine prank. It’s horrible but there’s no point getting worked up over nothing.”

“I doubt Filch think it’s nothing,” said Daphne reproachfully. “I’d feel horrid if Duchess was petrified.”

“I agree with Theo,” said Blaise. “Let’s wait this out. But I’d say we write down what we know so far. So we can keep track of it all.”

“Are you sure you guys want to get involved?” Keziah asked. She was surprised to see how her friends were getting into the whole ordeal.

“You had your turn to play detective,” said Theo. “We want to help too. At least to make sure you don’t kill yourself this time.”

“What he said - but less gory,” said Daphne with a bright smile. “We’re your friends, Keziah. I know you’re going to get up mixed up in this along with Potter and we want to come along for the ride.”

Keziah was nearly lost for words as she stared at the three sat in front of her. Taking a minute to breathe, she leaned forward, grabbing a quill and notebook.

They scribbled down everything they knew so far, which truthfully wasn’t much but it was a start. Charming the pages so only the four of them could see what was written, Keziah snapped the book shut. The conversation slowly ebbed away from the Chamber but she couldn’t help but look over at Salazar Slytherin. His pale eyes were fixed on her, unmoving even when she met them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keziah & Co: Let's wait things out bc we don't know how this is gonna play out
> 
> Golden Trio: Malfoy sus


End file.
